Assemble Your Dreams
by JanaButtercup
Summary: Avengers AU. Once upon a time, Steve Rogers, probably the best extractor in the world, ran an amazing extraction team. But now, the point man, Clint Barton, the forger, Natasha Romanoff, the architect, Tony Stark, and Rogers himself are all haunted by the same person. And in order to help save a guardian of our world, a team must be assembled to plant an idea in one man's mind.
1. Prologue

**Assemble Your Dreams**

Prologue:

He had given up hope two months ago. Never believed he'd go back home or have a chance on returning back to his old life, but she had given him purpose. She had given him a reason to see beyond what he had and lost and gave him a possible future to look forward to.

However, that life came crumbling down the day his friends had found him.

He had been serving breakfast that morning, a mundane task he thought he would never do but now didn't mind. The plate of scrambled eggs and a cappuccino went to Darcy while stack of pancakes and a cup of coffee with a shot of espresso went to a hungover Erik Selvig..

"Thanks," Selvig moaned as he squinted and looked down at his breakfast. "Donald, how much did we drink?"

"Oh, not enough for me," Thor replied, with a smile, "But you certainly had enough to honor your ancestors."

Selvig smiled back, looking a bit worse for wear, slightly worrying Thor, but Jane assured him that once the coffee got into his system he'd be all right.

"Did we fight?" Selvig asked, as he rubbed his jaw.

Thor laughed, "It was merely for sport and I learned a great deal." He gave his friend a slap on the shoulder before returning to Jane.

Suddenly, someone pounded heavily on the door.

Selvig winced at the sudden booming noise as he began to slowly sip his coffee but grimaced when Darcy shouted and ran across the room, cutting off Thor who had changed direction to answer the door.

"I'll get it!" she volunteered leaving Thor to return to Jane who held out a plate for him piled with his favorite breakfast food. She threw him a knowing smile as she sipped her coffee and headed the table with her own plate.

His eyes followed her, appreciating the view when-

"We found you!" a familiar voice boomed.

Thor's attention snapped to the source of the voice, to the entrance of Jane's studio and when he saw them, he smiled. Standing beyond the door were his friends, Sif, Fandral, Volstagg, and Hogun, all smiling and dressed in their business suits. He couldn't help but think they must have been a sight walking down the streets in sunny New Mexico wearing dark business outfits that would make one sweat buckets if they were to wear it the whole day under the sun.

"Come in?" said Darcy unsure about what to say, throwing glances back at Jane and Selvig for a gesture to tell her what to do. However, the two scientists were just as stunned as she was at the strangers' arrival, and were just as uncertain as her.

"Welcome," Jane said formally as Darcy rushed back to her seat and Thor walked over to greet his friends.

"Thank you, miss." Fandral replied with a slight bow and one of his dashing smiles. Sif and Hogun also conveyed their thanks, but Volstagg seemed all too concentrated on-

"Thor, am I glad we found you!" Volstagg exclaimed, reaching out and grasping Thor's forearm in a firm shake. Thor returned the gesture. He did the same with the others with an uncontrollable smile on his face.

"Friends, what are you doing here?" he asked before logic overrode his surprise and that smile faded into a look of worry. "Is it about my father? My mother? Loki?"

Sif and the others exchanged uncertain glances, their smiles having faded along with his, before Fandral spoke, "It's about your father and brother." He paused for a moment, hesitating on what to say next before he finally asked, "Thor, are you aware that Odin is dying?"

In a heartbeat, rage and alarm rose to the surface, but Thor didn't let it slip from his control.

"_What_?" he asked, his eyes stormy and his voice fierce, yet not raised more than a shout. He read the confused expressions on his friends' faces and began to explain, "Loki told me-"

"Loki?" Sif interrupted glancing back at Hogun before turning back to Thor, "When did he-"

"Donald?" someone interjected and the group turned to see that Erik, Jane, and Darcy were still by the table curious and looking worried. It was Jane that spoke. "Donald, what's going on?"

"Forgive our rudeness." Hogun apologized, stepping forward.

"Allow us to introduce ourselves." said Volstagg with a bow, "I am Val Volstagg."

"Sif Sylvan."

"Dash Fandral."

"Hogun Grim."

With each introduction, his friends gave a slight bow, a sign of honor to Jane.

"Jane Foster." she said introducing herself before Darcy and Selvig took their own turns, nodding their heads in their efforts at a subtle bow.

"These are my friends from-" Thor caught himself before he finished his sentence. Not everyone knew who he had been before Dr. Donald Blake, the civilian identity that had been created for him, and he wasn't sure how'd they would react. "From-"

"Why the hesitation?" Volstagg asked as he addressed the others, "We, too, are from Midgard International."

"Midgard?" Selvig asked, his gaze shifting from the strangers to his friend not failing to notice the man had said "too" as if it were to mean something.

"Forgive me, but could you excuse us for a moment." Thor said politely as he pulled his old friends off to the side. He lowered his voice to the volume not greater than a whisper. "Loki visited me two months ago and told me that my father had given up on me, forbidding my return, and turned ownership of Midgard International over to him."

"Lies!" Sif hissed angrily before calming herself down as the others stared at her. She whispered, "He lied. Your father lies in critical condition in a medical wing within the Palace Tower. We thought you'd return when you heard the news. I was sure it was broadcasted."

"I have been helping Erik and Jane with their experiments… we've had no recent news or even access to the Internet." Thor answered, "If I had but known-"

"Why on Earth are we whispering?" Fandral asked, his voice booming over the others, "We are not conspiring anything! We merely ask that you return to the Council. Take your rightful place as heir."

Hogun turned his focus from the loud Fandral to Thor before quietly saying, "He is right. The Council needs you back. Loki is merely a steward and already he has plans to merge Jotun Corp.!"

From afar, Selvig, Jane, and Darcy watched the group. Only Selvig and Darcy were alarmed at the fact that the strangers were calling their friend Donald by a different name and both of them were speculating the reasons behind that. Jane watched the group, slightly worried over what she could glean. She was never one to eavesdrop or use her skills to do such a thing and she had good reasons. However, she could see the worry and anxious look on Thor's face and she couldn't help it. She read the group's lips and made out the words of whoever she could see. As she did so, learning about the topic of conversation little by little, it escaped her notice that Darcy had been muttering the names Sif, Fandral, Hogun, and Volstagg repeatedly adding Thor to the mix. If she had noticed, she wouldn't have been as shocked and would have stopped the Darcy before she had her epiphany. However, before Jane knew what was going on it was too late to say anything, Darcy had beaten her to the punch.

"Wait, now I know you!" the intern cried as she rose from her seat.

She hadn't let her boss know, but for the past three months, something had bothered her. She knew there had been something about Dr. Donald Blake that was oddly familiar, but she couldn't pin down. It wasn't until she looked at all of them grouped together did she realize why they all looked familiar. It helped that four out of the five of them were all in business suits and they'd formally introduced themselves and name-dropped the business they were tied to.

"You're all-" she gasped, "You're all part of the Asgardian Council… the board of directors for Midgard International!" she cried.

Though a political science major, she had dabbled in economics and in one of her reports on important and influential business corporations she had chosen Midgard International and had researched several of the various members on the board of directors. She let out a cry of realization as she stared at Thor.

"Oh, my God!" she shouted as she pointed at him, "You're- you're…"

"Darcy, are you okay?" Jane asked, trying to calm her down though through the corner of her eye caught Thor signaling with his hands for Darcy to keep quiet, or at least that's what she thought he meant to signal.

"Thor Odinson! You're the heir to Midgard International!" Darcy cried, not understanding what Thor was signaling by holding his hand over his throat and shaking his head, "Why are you strangling yourself?"

"I think you meant this." Jane said as she gestured the proper way to give a cut-off signal. The usual amused and genuine smile Thor would give her, a smile that told her how much he appreciated her correcting and amending his mistakes, was replaced with thin line. He looked crestfallen as if something terrible had just happened and it wasn't going to stop.

"Odinson?" Erik shouted as he focused his gaze on Thor. He was more sobered now that the coffee was gone and no one was yelling loudly. "I don't believe it! You look so different from your pictures."

Jane, the only one in the room not familiar with corporate faces, was the only one not star-struck of the trio, stifling an amused smile at her co-workers and their half-slack jawed expressions.

"Jane, do you know who this is?" Erik asked, still in awe as he stared at the members of the Council.

"I knew Donald wasn't his real name, but I didn't know who he was." she answered, her eyes trained on Thor.

"I am sorry." Thor apologized as he stepped forward so that he stood in between both groups, "For deceiving each and every one of you and not telling you who I truly was. I believed I was no longer part of that life."

"Well, how did you establish an identi-" Erik started when Sif interrupted in the most polite way possible.

"Forgive me for the interruption, but we came here with a purpose: To take Thor back with us to New York City." she stated, "His father is fading fast and the corporation as we know it will be no more if Thor remains here instead of returning with us."

She stepped forward to Thor and placed a hand on his shoulder, unsettling Jane who finally broke her gaze with Thor, and looked back to her mentor and her intern.

"Please, Thor. We have a jet awaiting us at the airstrip." Sif said, looking at her friend, trying to meet his gaze, but she couldn't.

"I will meet you all there." he said, addressing his old friends but facing his new companions, "Please, go ahead."

Sif nodded stiffly before she and the others left. Hogun trailed behind the others, and before he closed the door behind them told the others that there would be a vehicle waiting outside to drive them all to the airstrip to say goodbye and then back here.

When the doors closed, Thor struggled for the proper words to say, but he couldn't come up with any.

In that momentary silence, all of them knew what was going to happen next and knew there was not much to tell.

"I want to apologize a thousand times over for the lies." Thor finally said. "I-"

"Why are you apologizing?" Selvig asked with a kind smiled as he approached the younger man and clapped him on the shoulder. "It's not as if we can't understand."

A small smile touched Thor's lips as he met the man's sympathetic gaze.

"Now, we may have some questions for you, but I'm sure they'll be answered on our way to the airport." Selvig said as he followed the Council members out.

Darcy followed Selvig, but as she flitted past him she harped, "I _knew_ I knew you! I _knew_ I knew you!"

Thor and Jane merely laughed at that shaking their heads, but now they were alone and the laughter faded away. Thor looked towards Jane, expecting to see some sort of betrayal in her eyes. But there was no hint of it. Instead, there was only sadness.

"Do you want breakfast to go?" she asked him to break the silence as she walked to a cabinet, about to open it, but she stopped herself. "Or maybe not. You might like the plane food better."

He knew she didn't want to talk about it… about what was going to happen, but he wanted to make sure things were set straight.

"Jane," he said softly, as he approached her. He saw her hands were trembling, and he reached down to take them in his. "This isn't goodbye."

He saw the incredulity in her golden brown eyes as they met his. "You're important. I may not be as star struck as Erik or Darcy, but I do know that Midgard International is practically a superpower in the world. I'm already busy with my work and you'll be… extremely busy with yours." She sighed, "I mean… we might as well say it-"

"Do you believe that?" he asked her, somberly, "Do you want to put an end to this before it even starts?"

Jane didn't answer. Instead, she ducked her face away from him and lifted her hands from his. She exhaled a shaky breath, in an effort to relieve the tension that was building up inside her. She turned towards the kitchen's counter, bracing her hands on the edge. Her hair formed a curtain around her face as she looked down shielding her expression from him.

"Jane," Thor whispered before she could get a second chance to force a goodbye. "You know how much I care about you. And I'm not the same man you met." He placed one hand over hers and with the other, he gently tilted her face towards him, "You know who I am."

She looked up to search his blue eyes and found nothing but sincerity and loyalty, and it comforted her. She smiled at him as she took a hold of his hand.

"Let's get you to your plane."

0o0o0

A black SUV was awaiting the lagging group just arund the corner, a driver informing them that he would be there to drive the rest of them back. 'Rest of them.' His words only served as a reminder to them that they'd return without Thor.

The car ride was more talkative than Thor expected it to be. Selvig asked him about the new technologies the corporation was thinking of funding and developing and asked him about the alliance with Stark Industries as well as the security agency known as Shield. Thor didn't divulge any secret information but whatever he could tell his friend, he did. When Selvig was finished with his questions, Darcy, on the other hand, used her questioning time to interrogate him.

"How long have you known those other guys?"

"How long have you been on the Council?"

"Have you met any celebrities?"

"What's your most exciting day like?"

He could barely answer them at first but in a couple of minutes got into the pattern of firing off replies at her rapid pace as quickly and concise as possible. She was more thorough than any journalist he'd ever been interviewed by and since she was a friend, he was answering her honestly, without any worry that she'd take his comments out of context and publish it in some tabloid or splash it all over the Internet.

Jane was the only one not asking him questions, but he knew that any questions would be personal. Jane merely listened, calmly and quietly with a neutral expression on her face that for some reason bothered Thor. He could read the anxiousness in Selvig and knew that the reason why Darcy was asking more questions was because she wanted them to avoid the conversation about him leaving. She was also being nice not asking about his familial life. But Jane's calm face caused him to wonder whether or not she would really give him a chance. That doubt crept inside and started to settle, but before it could start growing roots he squelched it by strategizing what he would do upon his return. This would be the last time he would see the three of them for a long while and he didn't want to spend it wallowing.

He wasn't surprised that Darcy hadn't run out of questions by the time they had arrived at the airport. The driver kindly interrupted her to inform them that they were there, but when they opened the door to find themselves on the tarmac instead of in front of the airport, the immediacy of Thor's departure seemed to hit them.

Sif, Fandral, Hogun, and Volstagg were already waiting by the jet's stairs, talking amongst themselves by the time Thor and the others exited the car.

Sif approached him and looked him up and down, confused. "You are going to return in that?"

Thor shrugged looking down at his solid blue flannel shirt and dark jeans. "I wasn't aware I had to change."

"All is well. Hogun had another suit brought for you, just in case." she said as she turned her attention to the others, "I believe this is where we bid each other farewell. Though I look forward to when we shall meet again."

They walked in silence to the bottom of the plane's stairway. Sif and the others said their goodbye and shook hands with Jane, Selvig, and Darcy before boarding the jet leaving Thor to say his goodbyes. He would have too, had Darcy not interrupted him.

"Ooh, can we see you in the suit?" she asked with a smile.

Jane bit her lip. She knew that Darcy was stalling.

Thor was a bit taken aback but the request, but slightly laughed and nodded. "Very well, then. Give me a moment."

When he disappeared, Darcy turned to Jane and said, "You can't let him go! Don't let him go!"

"I-" Jane started, shocked herself, "I- wasn't."

"As if," Darcy replied dubious, "You're gonna tell me you're not gonna BS your way into damaging this relationship? Like say, not calling him and asking him how he's doing every once in a while-"

"He's gonna be extremely busy, Darcy." Selvig inputted, earning a glare from the intern and a grateful smile from Jane. But he went on this time addressing Jane, "But I know he'd make time for you." The expressions on both young women switched to the other's, but he still had more to say. "The way he looks at you and the way you look at him- I've seen those kinds of looks before." He smiled as he said his next words, "And your parents were some of the happiest people I've ever known."

A smile blossomed on Jane's face and her eyes were slightly shining.

"Try, Jane." Selvig suggested. Jane recognized that fatherly tone in his voice. " There's more to life than work, and yes, you're a brilliant scientist, but I know that you want more than that. And that man on the plane, his name's sure changed and he went from being just a regular man to the heir of a business empire-"

Jane chuckled in amusement at his emphasis, but kept on listening.

"But that's still Donny. And I don't care if he becomes the god of thunder, I believe- no, I know that no matter what, he isn't going to let you fade from his life."

As the two spoke, Darcy looked back to the jet and-

"Whoa." she whispered, eyes fixed on Thor as he descended the steps.

He was wearing a black suit with a silver shirt and a crimson red tie. As he approached them, he laughed, amused at their surprise and disbelief.

"Oh. My. God." Jane said, staring at him. "So, is this how you normally look?"

"More or less." he replied, as he glanced down at the suit.

"It's a good look." she complimented with a smile, looking him up and down once more. "I like it."

Selvig looked up and saw Thor's friends, each of them watching them through their own windows, curious. He reminded himself that Thor needed to return and that there was no time to waste. He extended his hand forwards, "Good luck, Thor. I look forward to when we'll meet again."

"As do I, my friend." Thor replied as they shook hands and embraced each other.

Darcy stepped forward with a slight pout. "I'm gonna miss explaining stuff to you." she admitted, "But at least you know what tumblr is… and you can use Facebook's new timeline thing…"

She trailed off, and when she had nothing else to add to her goodbye she merely hugged him, and he hugged her back.

"Thank you for filling me in on those subjects." he said with a smile, "Do good in college, yes?"

"Duh, of course," Darcy replied before she asked her last question, "You know how to contact us, right?"

He laughed and nodded as they broke apart, he saw some tears in her dark eyes. "Of course."

He fixed his gaze on Jane as he stepped towards her. "I do not plan on this being goodbye." he said loud enough for the other to hear, but his eyes remained on her. "I will return." he swore as he took her hand and said quietly words only meant for her ears, "I promise. I will come back for you."

He kissed her hand, his lips lingering on her knuckles. "Deal?"

The part of her that always played it safe wanted to merely say, "Deal" and then send him off. But she wasn't going to do that. Not now. She wanted to send him off with a bright smile, and a small kiss to reassure him. She wanted to show him that she wasn't going to let him go. Wanted to tell him that she was going to give them a try, even with the change to their lives. She had wanted to do so much more… but she settled for what she wanted to do most in this moment.

Using his hand as an anchor and for balance, she leaned forward and kissed him, hard. It took him a moment to respond and when he did, he pulled her towards him and deepened the kiss.

It was only when they needed to breathe that they broke apart, and even then, they remained pressed up against each other.

"Deal," she whispered against his lips.

He smiled, wishing that he could remain with his friends for a while longer… wishing he could remain with Jane. But the matter at hand pulled his thoughts back to his family and home, he needed to leave. He leaned in to kiss her softly one last time and then broke apart from her. He glanced back at the others and gave them a smile before he boarded the plane. From the cabin, he was able to wave goodbye to them before the stairwell folded in upon itself and sealed off the plane. By the time the plane started rolling down the tarmac, by then the two scientists and the intern were headed back to the waiting SUV.

0o0o0

As the plane took off, Thor's attention was still focused on his friends. His eyes followed them until they were long gone from view, but even then he still gazed out the window.

"Your friend, Agent Coulson, told us where you were." Sif finally said at least thirty minutes into the flight, unable to bear the silence. "We have to come up with a plan. It is not because we deem Loki incompetent, but his direction is not what we think your father would want. An alliance with-"

"For heaven's sake, Sif, can you not see he needs a moment?" Fandral asked, noticing his friend's pained expression.

Sif glared at her co-worker, annoyed that he didn't see what she was trying to do.

"No, it is time for me to focus on the issues at hand." Thor said as he looked away from the window and to his friends, "Tell me, is Loki's new direction worrying even our friends at Shield?"

"Fury does not trust, Laufey, or any of the members of the Jotun board." Hogun answered him as he pulled up something on the main screen within the cabin.

Documents filled the screen with the all too familiar Shield insignia on the top of it. Thor walked towards the screen to read them.

"They have reports from compromised corporate spies that point to the Jotun Corporation hiring saboteurs and infiltrators to go after Midgard International and other businesses." Hogun explained, "The different testimonies all point to the Jotuns as our enemy. And in my opinion, I believe Laufey would rather destroy his life's work than work honestly with us."

"Loki has the right intentions at heart," Volstagg picked up, "I know he does not trust Jotun Corp. and he in turn wants to plant corporate spies within their ranks, but this is more of a risk than a reward. We simply do not have enough contacts to deploy into the field and Fury cannot afford to spare any of his people. His forces may be many but he watches out for everyone and not merely us. Loki simply does not understand that we have not the amount of people to support his strategy."

"Not to mention an alliance with Jotun Corp. would attract the wrong kind of attention." Sif said as Thor stood up and walked towards the screens, "I know he plans to probably weaken Jotun Corp. from the inside, but an alliance with them will draw already attention and heavy criticism. We have a name as the "protectors and guardians," we do not need the affiliation with a weapons industry whose supplies still fund hostile forces. It is already enough that we have formed a very loose alliance with Stark Industries , but at least they are taking a different path. "

"How do the others on the Council feel?" Thor asked solemnly, giving a signal for Hogun to go to the next page. He was speed-reading, eyes darting across the page catching the words that sent off red flags.

"Heimdall is against the merger as well. On the other hand, your mother trusts him." Sif replied, "Many others are split on the decision and are merely waiting for your father to state his will. Thor, if you do not take your place as the heir then this merger will continue when Loki legally becomes the CEO."

"I do not mean to come back and merely assume I can return to my old standing. And I do not wish to take the title both my brother and I have worked for." Thor said after some thought. "Unlike him, I have proved myself unworthy and was exiled."

"But not disowned." Fandral pointed out, "The Council needs to see the other side of this issue and none will listen to us. Your presence and your voice will at least inform them. People do look to you and your brother for leadership, and I think that many will support you. You still have a right to claim as Allfather's successor."

"My brother and I have always wanted to be the heir, to 'rule,' as we called it, Asgard and lead." Thor replied, "My father always said that he would deem which one of us to be worthy." He turned away from the screen and to the others. He knew they were working hard and that they would risk anything for him, as he would for them, but this wasn't a battle they could fight together. "I appreciate what you all are trying to do, but it is a lost battle if you are seeking to reinstate me as a candidate.

"All I want to do is apologize to my father and make amends for all I have done. He was right to have exiled me." he said as he returned to the seat. "I will, however, talk to my brother and bring my opinion to him and fight against this alliance. You are right, this merger would only serve to leave us vulnerable to Laufey and his company. I will see to it that this does not happen."

The other Asgardians exchanged incredulous glances with one another. Their hot-blooded, always-eager-to-become-'king' friend was no more. Instead, the man that sat with them was still their friend… only more level-headed and more considerate than he ever was. Yet, though he had changed for the better, he had also lost the attitude that compelled him to offensively confront anyone whose opinion differed from his when it came to the good of the corporation.

"How can you be so considerate of Loki when he lied about your father had abandoning you?" Fandral asked, stunned.

"Because I believe he knew the man I was." Thor replied, "I do not blame him from hiding the truth from me. If I had heard of our father's true condition, I would have rushed to the Palace and asked for forgiveness. Though back then, I would not have meant a word. I would not have changed."

Though Sif and Hogun believed Loki to always have been jealous of Thor, they saw him as an ally and a friend; and they all knew that there was an unspoken truth to why Thor never saw ill of Loki.

They were brothers.

0o0o0

"Why didn't he tell me?" Loki asked dejectedly, glances switching from his ailing father to his mother, who was across from him, gently holding her husband's hand.

"We wanted to protect you." Freya replied, her voice loving and sweet, "He never wanted you to feel different, and I never wanted you to know. Because you are our son… blood or no. You belong here. We are your family and this is your home, Loki."

She reached across in a gesture for his hand and he took it, feeling her thumb brush in comforting circles on the back of his hand. "I trust you, and so does your father."

"And so do I." rang a voice Loki thought he would never hear again.

Both turned to the doors to see Thor in his professional capacity, looking nothing like the desperate man Loki had dropped in to check-up on two months ago.

"Thor!" his mother cried happily as she rushed towards him and embraced her lost son. "Months! You've come back. All of us were uncertain whether you would. We thought you had been angry…"

"No, mother." Thor replied, "Where I was, news was… scarce. Once I heard, I returned."

Loki's stare hadn't lifted from his brother, trying to meet his gaze, but unsure of what he wanted to convey. However, when he heard someone weakly call him, he turned away.

"Loki?" Odin's voice was barely more than a whisper and sounded hoarse.

"Yes, father?" Loki said as he took his hand, "I am here. As is mother, and… Thor has returned."

"Thor?" Odin asked, his eyes widening just by a bit, "He has… returned? Let me see him."

The smile faded from Loki's lips and he merely nodded before he turned back to Thor and his mother, but saw they had taken notice that Odin was awake. He gestured for Thor to take his position, but Thor shook his head instead approaching his father from his unattended side, gingerly taking his father's frail hand in his.

It was a rare sight to see the usually solemn and gruff Asgardian chief smile and he clutched his sons hand with vigor. "I never thought I would get the chance to tell the both of you how proud I am and… how much I love the two of you." He glanced at Loki, "Equally."

Silence fell upon the three, and it looked as if Thor was going to reply, but a coughing fit suddenly seized Odin and he released his sons' hands. His fit lasted for a few moments, and his family could do nothing but watch. When he returned to take his sons' hands once more, they found his new strength had left, his grip slightly slack. "Thor, it has been a long time. I would like to speak with you."

"Of course, father." Thor said as he pulled a chair closer.

Loki and Freya wordlessly left the room and only father and son remained.

"Tell me," Odin whispered after a while, "What have you done?"

Thor smiled. Despite his condition, his father was making time for small talk. "I did not continue to live with my given name." he stated as he recalled his first couple of days after his fallout, "I was not worthy and I did not want to attract attention. My friend, Coulson, helped me establish a new identity and gave me a new start as Dr. Donald Blake."

Odin smiled. "A doctor?"

"Yes, well astrophysics." Thor replied with a grin, "That education was certainly put to good use."

"As a father who sent his son around the world for his education, that is good to hear." Odin coughed out but managed a low chuckle, before making a gesture for him to continue with his story.

"Ah, yes. Well, I never stayed for long in one town. I spent a week at most in a town before I moved on. Then I came upon a small town near a month after I had left here. It was in New Mexico and there-" he wasn't going to tell his father that that was the time Loki appeared and told him the lie that crushed him and at the same time led him to meet- "I met an angel."

He saw the twinkle in his father's eye, the only one not covered by a patch.

For the first time in years, Thor felt like a young boy again, nervous and with the urge to just spill everything about her. "She's a scientist. An astrophysicist and spends her time looking up at the stars. Studying the sky." he said and even Odin saw that his son was no longer in the room with him, he was in his memories of her, "She's passionate about her work and willing to teach any that have an interest… like her intern Darcy, and she has a mentor, a kind man by the name of Erik Selvig- who looked after all of us while we were there. Running through experiments and studying the skies, researching and- I helped them… it was different from my life here- but I was content and happy. And I was with her… Jane."

"Ah, and why is she not here?" asked Odin, "Why did you come back without her when you clearly want to be with her?"

"Her life is her work, father, and that is what she wants. I would not take her from it. My wishes are second to hers." Thor answered, withdrawing from his memories. "I came here to see you, to be by your side."

"Not to ask about the succession?"

"No," Thor answered sincerely as he shook his head, "succession does not matter. It has not for a long while."

Another smile touched the elderly man's lips. "Before my time is done, I would like to meet this angel."

"I will ask her." Thor reassured his father before the man called for his wife and Thor left to get his mother.

He left his parents alone and entered the main hall and saw his brother. He felt a pang of anger, but let it go. He wanted to approach this without anger.

"Why?" Thor asked, "Why lie to me, Loki?"

Loki's eyes narrowed, "You may have been able to reign in that anger for now, but I know you. That anger will explode and strike at all of us again." The two seemed to circle each other. "I lied to you to make sure you did not return. You did not deserve to, after all the trouble you caused us."

"I am a changed man, Loki. Not the reckless, unworthy son I was when I left." Thor answered, "I do not care about what you did, but at least give me a chance."

Loki's stare didn't soften, not until their mother stepped out of the room.

"Did he say anything?" he asked her.

Freya nodded, "He told me that his will remained unchanged."

Thor didn't know what that meant, but he saw something dark flash across his brother's face for a moment. He turned to his mother, about to ask, but Loki stormed out angrily without a word.

Before he could get a grip on his words, his mother explained, "Originally, you were to inherit. Your exile was a test from your father, and a way to give you a choice. When you did not return, he believed that you did not want to… that you perhaps chose to live apart from the Council. Things were set to change, but not anymore. You are still the heir, Thor."

"But I am not after that!" he shouted, hoping that his brother was not too far away to hear.

"Your father knows, but it is that which showed him that you changed." Freya saw her son's anxious look and walked up to him, "Thor, you and Loki were both groomed for this, but it was always your father's choice. His decision. He has his reasons for everything and all is not revealed yet."

He offered his mother a kind smile before he looked back to where his brother had left, "I must go after him."

"Leave him be," his mother replied knowing her younger son well enough to know that no one could comfort him now, "Your father plans for Loki to be a leader as well, though not within the Asgard Council. Leave him with his time and he will find his place."

She saw that Thor still wanted to go after his brother, but after a moment, he gave up the notion and nodded in agreement.

"Come, let us go to the garden for a walk" she said as she headed towards the elevator with him by her side, "You can tell me about your life these past three months and about this angel your father wishes to meet. Jane, is it? Oh, and whose brilliant idea was it to make you a doctor?"

0o0o0

Phil Coulson looked into his office through the glass doors to see that at least four piles of paperwork had been delivered to his desk in the past four hours. He sighed as he stared at them from across the hallway. Could a man just watch some TV during his break without having a forest killed while he was gone? He didn't have to look at the top of the file, where he knew a post it was waiting for him listing what the papers were for, to know what issues needed his attention.

Having "pet projects" as Maria called them, earned him tons of paperwork and half of the time, those pet projects caused more problems, but at least they cleaned up themselves without inconveniencing his field operations. However, when it came to all of the clerical work his operations never ended.

He had asked Maria to help him, and she had only agreed as long as she got to coordinate some missions and got to annoy them sometimes just to show how much they were being annoying themselves, and he was just a tad-bit grateful that she did that… not that he'd ever admit it.

By the time he entered his office, he saw that Hill was busy working, had even finished one of the six piles that had been waiting for him, and had started upon a second. That left him to start with the new batch that had arrived sometime in the past couple of hours. It also didn't escape Coulson's notice that Hill was sitting in his seat which was why he couldn't see she was already there, but at the moment he didn't care. He needed all the help he could get.

"You know, Coulson, maybe you should call in Widow or maybe Captain or Barton to help you since this is all their doing." she said as she signed ten papers she'd laid out perfectly. She then continued to organize them into ten different file folders before adding them to a pile by her feet.

"Barton and Widow help when they're not out in the field or in a mission…" Coulson replied, "And Cap helps all the time when he's in the city."

Maria shrugged, lips twisted for a moment as she tried to come up with something to say about Barton and Widow, but she just left the issue and took another five files. Two of them belonged to Widow and three of them were field reports from Barton.

Maria knew that Coulson went through at least a dozen of these piles every week, and the real reason she helped him was because she felt he didn't need to do all of this work by himself when he was the only one that always believed in people like Rogers, Romanoff, and Barton… and hell, even Stark. It was only Coulson who believed they were heroes when others would have seen something entirely dark.

Barton was a well-known, talented, and highly-regarded agent, but he was just as infamous for getting into danger and having close calls with death that he was a lone wolf. Romanoff on the other hand had come from a background no one at Shield ever thought would land her working amongst them, but Barton had made a call that in the end turned out giving Shield one of its most key infiltrators. Stark, a former weapons distributor, had made a change for the better and took a new direction with his life and his corporation's aims- still, it didn't change the fact that he was a narcissistic, arrogant, and a tad bit reckless. Rogers… he was the only decent person amongst the four of them and in Tony's words his story "is lifetime movie worthy." Despite his whole history wrapped up in confidential files, he was the most ordinary, high level… person Shield was affiliated with.

Now, separately, each of them had caused problems... attracted problems… created problems… problems merely followed them like lost puppies. And when they had all worked together for some time, they had become a explosive, rogue element that Shield had no control over. Yet, it was Coulson that believed in them and vouched for them, pressing Fury to recruit them as a team. However, that wasn't the particular reason that resulted in these mountains of paperwork.

It all started over the whole Thor-Donald-Blake incident which had added at least half a dozen more reports to every high priority agent's to-do list. Hill didn't forget when Fury was raging over the fact that they'd lost the Asgardian, who'd somehow, suddenly dropped off the face of the Earth only to turn up in the-middle-of-nowhere-New-Mexico with a new identity. When it came into light that Coulson had helped him disappear, Fury was both impressed and livid. Instead of giving Coulson the assignment of being Thor's bodyguard which would have been more of a punishment than an assignment, Fury put him in charge of looking after all the rogue elements that Shield was affiliated with. He had stated: "With everything that's going on, I need someone to look after those who operate outside of our bounds." That meant people like Agent Barton, the Black Widow, Captain Rogers, Thor, and even Stark were his responsibility. Besides Fury, only Maria and Carter were aware of Coulson's responsibility, and they occasionally helped him with the paperwork and the mission coordination. Point is, that was when Coulson's paperwork mountains had started to build. His _real_ work had started when he had to investigate Stark and his secret metal suit… which somehow was still a secret.

"I've always wondered, which one of these guys is the most annoying?" Maria asked finishing with one of Barton's injury reports and another on an infiltration mission with the alias name of Brandt.

"Who do you think?" Coulson asked, having finished three files on Rogers. He pulled a file from the nearest column as he sat down across from her, sighing as he read the name.

"The most reckless." Maria answered.

"Then you'd be right if we're thinking of the same reckless one."

"Well, when I say reckless. I mean the one who's getting into the most trouble."

"Then we're on the same page."

"On three, name." Maria said leaning forward on the file folders. Coulson threw her an amused smile and looked up from his own file. "One. Two. Three."

"Stark."

"Barton."

The two exchanged odd glances.

"Stark's the most reckless outta them."

"Barton throws himself into trouble."

Again, odd glances were exchanged and Maria settled back on the chair. "Okay, why is Barton the most annoying?"

"How many times have you read his name on the reports?" Coulson asked as his eyes skimmed the mission debrief. "Stark might be an annoying human being, but Barton's the one who's either always getting injured or always in a hospital or breaking some protocol… at least Stark follows some sort of protocol even if it's not ours."

"Yeah, true. At least Barton's not overriding the PA system and blasting his playlist every other Thursday." Hill commented as she finally closed the second file on Widow and dropped it on a building pile. "Speaking of Barton… where the hell is the Cap? I haven't read his name in any of these recent reports."

"He's-" Coulson started, "He's working as an independent contractor. He's got enough connections to keep doing his job."

"But not with a team?"

"Usually it's just him and Barton. The team hasn't shared a dream in over a year. Not since-"

"Yeah, I know."

Despite it being over a year, Maria knew that the incident wasn't something the team or even Coulson and Fury liked talking about much.

"They still blame themselves." Coulson said, "Each one, their own reason."

"And no matter how much we tell them," Maria said as she shook her head, "they're not gonna listen."

"Nope. And in the end they've got to face their own demons."

"Demon."

"Whatever."

Suddenly, Coulson's phone went off. The agent looked down to see that there was a message on the screen from Thor Odinson that read: "Could you take care of the story in the papers? Thank you."

"Maria, what did Thor do?" Coulson asked, dreading the answer, hoping that it was something that was easy to take care of, even hoping it was something good... but that had never been the case.

"You mean you didn't hear about the enormous bash he threw at one of his lofts that rained glass down onto the streets because-"

Coulson was already dialing and heading out of his office before she even finished completing the story. This was just like of Thor to do something just for the hell of it, not caring about what happened afterwards. He may be brilliant at what he does, but when he wants to have fun, he doesn't care about limits or anything in fact.

In the week that Thor returned, Coulson agreed as did Fury and others that the Asgardian had truly changed. But as the days went on, and that week become three, nearing a month… Coulson was beginning to doubt that Thor had turned it around.

He was in his friend's office in no time ready to lecture him.

"Did you take care of it?" Thor asked, anxiously, as Coulson entered. However, telling by the anger and annoyance on his face, Thor knew he shouldn't have opened by saying that. "Coulson, I am sorry. I did not know things would get too far. Should not have insisted that Volstagg keep drinking."

"You think this is funny?" Coulson inquired, not bothering to answer the man's question. "Your father is in critical condition. We're trying to handle your public image, and this isn't going to help. How do you think this story is going to play out? The prodigal son returns weeks ago showing that he's changed his ways only to prove to us that he's still the party, playboy that was exiled by his father. What the hell do you think you're doing? You think this is going to help you? That every mistake you do can be simply wiped clean?"

Thor didn't reply. He merely stared at his friend waiting for him to finish.

"I mean, have you really changed? Or were those just words to win back your father's favor? Pass his test. What the hell did you learn those past three months?" Coulson looked back at his friend, expecting an answer, but instead was met with a look of pure confusion. "You know what? Forget it, it's not my place.

"But know this… I am not going to be here to clean up your mess all the time. Shield may look after your security but we don't clean up your image. I'm taking care of this one time and you're on your own after this."

He was hitting a speed dial on his phone and stepping out of the room when Thor's innocent question stopped him in his tracks.

"Three months?"

Coulson turned back understanding his friend's confusion. "Yeah, that's how long you were gone."

"No, I was-" Thor said, honestly confused. He shook his head, "I was- no- wait…"

Red flags immediately went off in Coulson's mind.

"Thor," he started as he hung up his phone and approached his friend, "how long did you think you were gone?"

0o0o0

The infamous Black Widow was under fire when she felt her comm ring. After taking out at least a couple of the shooters on the other side of the warehouse, she dug the comm out of her pouch at her belt and hung it on her ear.

"Romanoff." she said, plugging her other ear with the base of her palm to hear the caller.

"We need you to come in." she heard Maria say as more gunfire exploded from behind her.

Bullets hit the concrete cover she was using. She needed to take them out. She emptied her empty clip and reloaded.

"I don't know if you can hear, Hill, but I'm in the middle of a firefight." Natasha answered as the gunfire stopped, and she cautiously peeked around the corner catching her prey hiding behind some crates reloading their rifles. They wouldn't catch her if she ran across the warehouse floor and out if she moved in the next minute.

"Those are human traffickers right?" Hill asked.

"Yep, I evacced their cargo and they're not happy. And I've got no backup." Natasha said as she fired twice taking down one of the men and running across the room to the next column before the firing started again. She knew that Hill would berate her for confronting them on her own so added, "It's more fun this way."

"Whatever. Get your ass outta there and meet at the rendezvous point." Hill said, just as Natasha broke out from her cover emptying her clip into the last man standing. "I've pulled some favors, and feds will be there in ten minutes."

"Good," Natasha replied, holstering her weapon. "They can clean up and get those girls back home."

She could hear Hill sigh slightly annoyed but she ignored that.

"And may I ask what Shield needs me for so desperately?" She exited the warehouse and scanned the area for a vehicle she could hotwire.

She smirked when she saw a motorcycle peeking out from behind some cargo crates.

"A debrief packet will be waiting for you on the jet." Maria told her.

"Oh, c'mon, just tell me!" Natasha said, slightly annoyed herself, as she began to hotwire the bike. It took a few moments for the engine to sputter to life and she was driving away when she shouted at the agent again. "What the hell is so-"

"You're needed on shadow detail." Hill answered, curtly.

It was much more than that if they were sending her in and the Black Widow knew it.

"On who?"

0o0o0

The train from upstate into New York City was running slowly. The only thing that distracted Natasha from falling into boredom was the fact that she needed to stay aware and study each face that went in and out of the car. Hill was already running the identities of the multiple passengers and cleared only a couple of them.

Thor Odinson sat several rows away from her, his back to the exit on the opposite end of the car they were in. It was so easy to shadow him, but she that she was not the only thing she was assigned to do. She needed to look for others that were shadowing him and determine the cause of his memory loss.

She had hit a couple of leads, but they hadn't checked out as of yet and she was starting to think that there was nothing wrong… well, there was something wrong because he didn't remember a month of his life, but it wasn't the specific kind of issue that she could deal with.

She was seated with her back to the second exit, facing him and keeping her eyes on those around him, waiting to catch something odd in their behaviors. So, far… there was nothing odd on the train and they had close to an hour left in their trip.

For some reason, she hadn't heard from Maria in over an hour. The last thing she'd heard had cleared the college-aged couple that sat across from her, added with the thirteen year old who occasionally had a stewardess check up on him. That totaled three that were clear, and it shouldn't take more than a couple of minutes to clear a civilian.

Her eyes scanned the passengers once more. There was an elderly man sitting three rows in front of her facing her and reading a newspaper. Across from him was a model, who was filing her nails. Behind her was a middle-aged couple, the woman was reading a hardcover book and the man looked out the window, occasionally glancing down at his watch. There were others, but most of them had their eyes closed, either asleep or meditating- Natasha could care less. However, amongst the passengers in the car with her and her mark, the one whose report she was waiting for was the man that sat a row in front of Thor, whose back was to her.

She studied him intently. His short wavy hair reminded her of someone she used to know... someone who a lifetime ago had been so important. When she closed her eyes for a moment, memories and his face flashed before her. Her eyes snapped open and she shook her head, pulling herself away and closing her mind off to those recollections. It wasn't something she wanted to remember… in fact it was something she had been told to let go... something she wanted desperately to let go.

Where were those damn reports? She was getting annoyed. Next time, she'll just contact Tony and get Jarvis to run these faces himself… damned if she'll owe him a favor or not.

She shifted her weight to lean on her elbow. Her head leaned on her hand subtly pressing the comm button before lifting her cell phone to that ear. "Hill! What is taking so goddamn long?" she hissed.

But there was no answer.

Instead, there was dead air.

This was wrong.

Something was wrong. This was Stark's special communication system that he had created for all priority Shield agents and those he liked. It didn't malfunction and almost never lost its signal. The fact that it wasn't working meant that… The probable truth sent the chills down her spine and set off alarm bells in her head.

She slipped her hand into her bag and pulled out what looked to be a black glove attached to a flexible wrist cuff. She slipped it on her fingers and flexed them. When she formed a fist, black prongs stuck out over the ridge of her knuckles and cobalt blue electricity danced between the two of them.

That wasn't supposed to happen. Especially when the power source wasn't attached to it.

This was definitely not good.

She stood up and looked to see that almost every other person that shared the car with her had disappeared, even her ward and the others around her. The only other person left was the one dark haired man that she'd spotted earlier, and that could only mean one thing.

She approached him warily with her Widow's Bite poised and ready. Less than a foot away from him, his arm snapped out and grabbed her by the forearm and before she knew it, she was locked in hand-to-hand combat with the passenger. The hard thing about fighting in a closed arena is that there's no room to maneuver, and in a train car, there wasn't much room to do anything… fancy. He was moving like a blur and she could barely see his face, when she wasn't dodging his fists or kicks. At one point, she spared a glance up to see that there were rails and that was good enough for her. She didn't like to launch a kick, because if he caught her angle and brought her down to the floor, the space between the rows of chairs was too narrow to do much. Instead, she grabbed a blanket from the nearest chair and threw it in front of him, blocking his view for a vital moment. She jumped up, grabbed the rails and swung her legs forward, to knock him straight in the chest and onto the floor. She took advantage of the moment, landing on the floor behind him and stabbing her Widow's Bite into his nape. He crumpled on the ground before her, facing away.

If there was anything she loved more, it was catching an extractor in the middle of his own op. She didn't need to train her subconscious because she was well aware of her surroundings and her gear to know when something wasn't working and when she was in a dream.

She needed to incapacitate the extractor and make sure he didn't get a chance to wake up before her. She reached down and yanked his head back by the hair, ready to knock him unconscious…

And froze. He wasn't an extractor at all.

He wasn't even…

He couldn't be…

Looking up at her with that all too familiar smile, James Buchanan Barnes eased out of her grip and stood to face her brushing himself off. She stared at him, partly horrified but mostly… petrified.

"Natasha, sweetheart," Bucky drawled as he slowly drew his gun. Natasha snapped, pulling a small pistol from her back and aiming her Widow's Bite at him. "I suggest you wake up."

He fired twice but Natasha only fired once.

And as his body dropped to the floor, so did two others. She whirled around, after her shot, ready to fire again this time to maim and not to kill, but they were already taken care of. On the ground, were two bodies. One had been holding a PASIV case and the other had a small black case which she was sure contained some sedative.

They were the real extractors. They had just been woken up, and she was still down in the dream.

"That son of a bitch." she whispered as she pressed the muzzle of her pistol to her temple.

She was compromised.

She pulled the trigger.

0o0o0

It had always been the same dream for the past two weeks. He didn't know how he knew, but a part of him was sure. That same part of him also seemed to remember the setting but never the content.

He was sitting in a small private theatre back at Palace Tower where he and his family and friends usually sat down to watch a movie together, or sometimes bring people from the outside to watch.

However, instead of a movie that was playing. It was a fond memory.

He smiled as he watched Jane, Darcy, Selvig and himself in the diner. He remembered this incident rather well, down to specific details.

He and his friends had gotten to know the cook and had talked him into cooking waffles and breakfast food at midnight for them. Each of them had been a bit depressed for different reasons but they had been able to agree on the type of comfort food they wanted.

Jane had ordered chocolate chip pancakes. Darcy had a Belgian waffle with butter. He and Selvig had ordered breakfast combos, and he had ordered another plate of it, when he had finished the first.

"How are you so hungry all the time?" Darcy asked still shocked at the amount of food he could intake even after the month he'd been with them. The first time she'd asked that, she added, "I can't believe this. This is going on Facebook" and then went on to snap a picture of him.

Each of them halfway into their midnight breakfasts had started to talk about their problems. Jane had hit a snag with funding. She could get the tech she needed and so needed to buy the parts and then build her own equipment which would take a couple more weeks. Erik heard bad news from back home, and the others didn't want to make him talk about it if he didn't want to. Darcy was having a hard time with student loans, and said she'd have to get a job while interning. This was around the time Thor was having trouble accepting that he was never going to get a chance to go back home, feeling depressed and being distant.

The night turned out enjoyable though. The group spent time on the lab roof spotting constellations and telling stories until late into the night. That was the night that he'd accepted that just because he was alone now didn't mean he had to stay alone. That was the night he'd just accepted his new life. Everyone slept in the lab that night in order not to be bothered by the blazing sun when it rose in the morning.

This was one of his favorite memories of his time in New Mexico. Yet, something itched in the back of his mind. He knew he had had more, but for the life of him couldn't recall a single detail, not even the gist of the moment. He shook his head, but the idea kept coming back to him like a boomerang.

Suddenly, the movie seemed to burn up. Dark holes appearing in the footage.

"No!" he yelled at the screen and looked up to see smoke coming from the projector's box. "_NO!_"

That was his memory burning up! He ran to the doors, trying to open it but found it was bolted. He slammed his body weight onto the door but it didn't budge and he looked down to see shadows cast, meaning that there were people on the other side blocking his way. Even if he did manage to break the lock he needed to get past them.

He spared a glance at the silver screen but the remnants of the footage burned up completely leaving nothing but the silver screen itself.

Suddenly, he could hear a scuffle from beyond the door. He looked down to see that the shadows disappeared. He could hear a subtle click meaning the door was unlocked and it gave way to the slightest push, only to be interrupted by the bodies that lay beyond it. He didn't bother shoving the door into them in order to get them out and restrained himself from hitting them with the door repeatedly.

"You know you can if you want to." said the red headed woman in a black stealth suit that stood before him. He looked up in surprise not realizing there was a woman there with him.

He threw her a curious look. It wasn't odd that she was here. It was odd that he didn't mind her presence here. Yet, he figured she was his ally judging by the Shield badge on her shoulder.

"Hit them with the door." she replied, as if she had read his mind. "It won't hurt them. Not really. And I took care of the guy in the projector room, though I'm sorry to say I wasn't fast enough. He already destroyed your memory."

"What memory?" he asked.

"It works that fast." she replied, solemnly, throwing him an apologetic look although it didn't make sense to him. What works fast? What memory? What was she talking about?

He turned his attention from her to the man closest to him and knelt down to turn him over. He didn't recognize the man at all.

"Mr. Odinson," she said, and he missed the sound of her drawing her gun. "I'll explain when we wake up."

He was contemplating whether or not to hit them with the door not knowing why he wanted to, but she had said a strange thing and he turned back to her, "When we wake up?"

But he was staring at a gun in her hands and down the barrel. Before he could say another word, she fired.

0o0o0

He woke up with a start… in his seat… on the train with two men across from him… two men who weren't there a couple of minutes ago. He turned to his side to see a red-headed woman from… No, it couldn't be. She was the woman from his dreams. He could barely remember what happened, barely recall where he was in the dream, but he remembered her and her gun.

He looked down to his arm and saw that there was a needle and tube attached to his wrist which was in turn attached to a silver briefcase with an odd contraption inside it. He reached over and took the needle out of his wrist and was surprised to find that the woman next to him had opened her eyes and was doing the same.

"I'm with Shield and you're a target, Mr-" she started but Thor cut her off as he stood up and stepped back and away from the two unconscious men.

"It's Thor." he told her as she concentrated on the briefcase and its odd tech.

He looked around to see that their car was completely empty save for two unconscious men sitting by the other exit of the car and the two that were in front of him.

"Thor, you don't know it, but someone's been stealing from you." she said, her fingers dancing across buttons and switches. "I'm taking you to Shield's base when we arrive in New York City."

"Stealing?" Thor asked as suddenly doors opened and three casually dressed men entered the cabin car. One of them attended to the men on the other side.

"Give me a minute, and I'll explain." she said as she turned to the men, "I've sedated them but they'll be up in ten. Give 'em the Shield welcome greeting, boys. Oh and mind the briefcase, I want it bagged and sent to base."

"Yes, agent." answered one of the men with a nod as they went about with their orders.

Natasha turned back to Thor and gestured towards the exit at the other end of the car as the two Shield agents took their seats.

Thor wasn't surprised to find that the next car was empty as well and there was something attached to the lights, metallic and black and gleaming.

"This car has been secured because what I'm about to tell you is classified Shield information." Natasha explained as she locked the other exit of the car.

"Can we begin with your name?" Thor interrupted as he extended his hand to her in greeting.

"Ah, right." she said as she shook his hand, "Agent Natasha Romanoff. I'm a friend of Coulson's."

"Does this have anything to do with my inability to fully recall these past three months?" he asked remembering that moment in office. He had known Phil for quite a while and could read his expressions and certainly saw alarm that day.

He saw something flicker in Natasha's eyes. Pity?

"I think you should take a seat," she said gently waiting for him to sit down before she followed her own suggestion.

She cleared her throat and seemed to think over something before she answered him. "I'm a Shield… specialist and I deal with operations known as extraction: theft from the mind."

She let him ponder over that for a minute before she gave him a brief description, "An extractor can steal anything from ideas, to information… to memories."

Thor swallowed hard. It didn't take him long to connect the dots. His inability to recall his full time away from Midgard International. "You mean… those men have been stealing my memories?"

Natasha nodded. "You don't remember those three months because there's nothing to remember. Your dreams took place in a movie theater and whatever played was a cherished memory of yours. They played it out in your mind and when it was done… when they were sure they had the memory, they burned it."

"But you're talking about a dream!" Thor shouted, "A dream is-"

"Not what you think it is." Natasha cut in. "With a drug called somanicin, extractors are able to enter their mark's mind through their dreams. You see a dream's not a dream when you're in them. It's only when you wake up that you realize that there'd been something strange going on."

Thor still looked dubious and in denial. "This is not-"

"Possible?" Natasha finished as she pulled out her Widow's Bite and flexed her fingers. When she formed a fist, there were no sparks of electricity. "I know it's hard to believe, but when we get to base. I'll show what it's like in a dream."

0o0o0

Coulson got the call from Natasha early that afternoon. "There's a helicopter waiting for you. The Helicarrier's coordinates will be sent when you put in your verification code."

"We'll be there in twenty."

"Confirmed." Coulson said as he hung up and turned to his boss. "It's extraction, sir. Someone's been destroying Thor's memories, erasing his time out there."

Nick Fury stood at the top of the bridge overlooking the agents that worked for him as they went about their work tracking threats, coordinating missions, executing orders… Fury was the director of Shield, a secret security agency deemed by Stark Industries, Midgard International, the different departments of the United States… and many others to be a protector of the people. Lately, with Odin Allfather's failing health he took it upon himself to make sure the CEO's family was protected, and he was not going to let an unknown force take out the Allfather's heir on his watch.

"Coulson," he said addressing his second in command, "You're in charge while I'm gone."

"Where are you going, sir?" Coulson asked, not at all bothered by his boss's sudden departure. It was a frequent thing after all.

Fury hesitated for a moment before he turned, "I've got a team to assemble."

* * *

_0-0-0_

_Well, hi there! Thank you for reading the prologue for this story. It's inspired by a gif set on tumblr, if you want to see it you'll have to go onto my page. :]_


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter One:

"What if I told you, we could pull off the perfect crime?"

Justin Hammer, CEO of Hammer Industries, had in front of him an elegant bowl full of organic ice cream and he wanted nothing more than to eat it before it melted. Yet, somehow, two businessmen had gotten his assistant to get a meeting scheduled just around dinnertime. She knew that he always preferred lunch meetings rather than evening meetings and that he preferred a profile on the men he'd be speaking with. She also knew that he preferred his desserts first and yet, she had scheduled the meeting right at the start of dinner when she could have very well just had the hotel staff send the men in once the appetizer was served. He was certain he was going to fire that as of now incompetent, albeit smokin' brunette once he got into his office the following morning. But then again, she looked amazing, and he loved watching-

"Mr. Hammer?" one of the men asked breaking his train of thought.

Hammer looked up from his dessert to the man who was talking. He had blond-brown hair, which was neatly combed to one side, and the build of an athlete. Those were the only things that Hammer took away from first impressions, that and the man's taller height.

"I'm sorry." Hammer replied, "You said a perfect crime? All crimes leave some sort of evidence though."

The man who was sitting on his right smiled, almost impressed that he'd brought up that point, and that made Hammer smile knowing that he'd thought one step ahead. "True enough, but with this crime... There's not re- well let's just say there's no apparent evidence. Besides, can you think of what evidence can be left to prove that a crime happened within your own mind?"

If Hammer was perceptive, he would have caught the expression on the other man's face at that question. An expression that would have told him, evidence did exist. However, the Hammer Industries CEO wasn't very observant at all and was more preoccupied with words and his ice cream than someone's expression.

He mulled over the man's words, "To be honest, and let's be honest with each other, this little proposition of yours sounds too good to be true."

"Well, what if we told you it was possible?" asked the man to Hammer's left.

For a moment, Hammer just shifted his glance from one businessman to the other before giving into his mild curiosity. A perfect crime… barely any evidence left? Possible?

"Okay, I'll bite." he said, leaning back in his chair, "Whattya got for me? What's this perfect crime called?"

"Extraction."

0o0o0

"This just gets easier every time." said Clint Barton as he loosened the black tie around his neck. He didn't hate formal wear, he just really, really disliked wearing it, and Steve knew that. The restricting black tie and the buttoned-all-the-way-to-the-neck-shirt were just suffocating and too showy for the Shield agent who preferred either his own custom suit or the black armed forces Shield gear. But this wasn't an assignment… this was for a friend and Barton would endure torture for his friends. That wasn't saying much though, he had a short list. And it was for a couple of people on that short list that he wore this damned suit and was in this damn dream after all.

Though now he was glad this wasn't going to take much longer. The meeting had gone according to plan. They'd explained extraction, sold it to Hammer, and got him to hire them on the spot to rob from Tony Stark. So far, so good.

When the dinner meeting was over, they had told Hammer to make sure that his vault was secure informing him they had seen a familiar thief, who targeted, in general, the richer class, lurking around in the lobby. It was a weak story, but good enough to have the CEO believe them which meant that right about now he'd be at, or at least heading to, the vault room, securing all of his secrets.

Yes, everything was going smoothly.

"I mean, we've extracted from this guy what- three times in the past year?" Barton continued as they walked outside onto the hotel's large balcony that stretched from one side of the building to the other and extended over Pacific Ocean.

"Yeah, well, this time it's much different." Steve Rogers answered as he swiped a glass of champagne from a passing waiter's tray. "By the way, clever use of a party."

Barton shrugged, "Needed some cover."

Steve grinned, amused, he knew this had nothing to do with cover. "You did this because you needed a reason for the suit."

"Hey, I'm not gonna get dressed up in _this_," Barton laughed gesturing at the formal wear, "and not have a damn good reason."

Steve shrugged in reply. It was Clint's dream, so he could do whatever he wanted.

The two friends found an empty spot at the end of the balcony by the railing, a view of the ocean out in front of them. In the silence, the mission came back to Steve's mind, "We _need _to get into that vault."

"_You_ need to get into the vault, Cap." Barton pointed out, as he leaned his forearms on the railing and looked out to the sea.

Steve noticed a far-away, zoned-out look on his friend's face. He knew that meant Clint was seriously thinking about something… someone maybe?

For a moment, Barton let himself get lost, but an instant later that moment passed. The mood changed, the Shield agent was no longer laid back, and from where he stood Steve saw that shoulders became tense and when he spoke his voice grave. Steve knew what that meant: Clint was pissed.

"How did Hammer get the Mark II _and_ Stark Tech blueprints?" Barton inquired.

"Rhodey... the government." Steve answered as he downed the champagne. He knew it would only be a matter of time before they came around to this part.

This extraction wasn't something Clint was informed about until last minute… all he was told was that Stark tech and a Mark II suit went missing and that they needed to get the location of Hammer's warehouse to retrieve stolen tech and prints. Steve filled him in on the extraction plan on the way to meet the mark and that was all the information given. Now, it was time for Steve to fill in the blanks. He continued, "They want access to the Iron Man technology and Rhodey got a suit for them during that time Tony thought he was dying."

Barton muttered a curse under his breath. He remembered those couple of months. It made a later Shield mission involving a heavy firefight against a drug cartel seem like a vacation. During that time, Stark had been more annoying, obnoxious, brash, and worst of all more reckless and he had nearly driven Pepper, Barton, Rhodey, and Happy insane in their own separate ways.

Pepper, who had been assigned CEO, had juggled everything from Stark's image to comments on his actions, to managing his schedule and appearance. Stark's unpredictability made Barton paranoid that he was determined he not kill himself with any of his stunts. Rhodey was worried that Stark would abuse the tech he'd made, and Happy was driven to near exhaustion from driving and being dragged everywhere at Stark's whim. Barton had felt sorry for the poor guy and agreed to take on Happy's driving duties for Stark leaving Happy to be there for the new CEO. Suffice to say, everything had been crazy.

Now, it wasn't a surprise to Barton that Rhodey had been able to get the suit during then. Hell, Barton could've been joyriding the Mark IV on the side, but that would've been a betrayal of Stark's trust. It was bothering him that Rhodey knew that as well and was an even longer friend of Stark's, and still he took the tech. However, Barton knew that Rhodey had a reason. The man had been ordered by the US government to obtain the tech, and with Stark's actions he must have believed he was protecting the nation, which then would have made sense but even still…

"But Stark has redundancy codes. How-" Barton started, referring to the system of codes Stark used to restrict access to the suits… only certain people knew them. Even his lab had security codes that only a handful of people knew.

"You know the codes, so does Pepper. Hell, even I know them. There's a short list of people that Stark trusts. We're on it and so is Rhodey." Steve pointed out as he leaned back against the railing. He saw that agitated look on his friend's face, but couldn't nail down a reason. "You're bothered."

Barton threw him a glare, but Steve ignored it, "I know that this is too soon. I mean I knew you were abroad…"

"Too soon?" Barton snapped at his friend, "I've been abroad for six months and no one's even bothered to tell me that Rhodey stole the suit and that Stark Tech blueprints are slowly going missing. I'm the fucking head of a security-"

"You know as well as I do, that you're a Shield agent first." Steve replied calmly, "Stark didn't want to pull you out from the field for this and Coulson, others back at base, and I have been helping.

"Just around the time you left, Rhodey confessed to taking it and told us that the government was trying to break it down… we couldn't get to it without causing some internal fires so we left it there. Tony said it would take decades without his help to get it open, so we all just waited for an opportunity to retrieve it. When they couldn't figure it out in a few of months, they wanted to weaponize it further and they hired Hammer to do it. That was at the start of the month. And at least Rhodey told us when Hammer had it."

It wasn't that no one had bothered to inform Barton about the thievery, they all knew that Barton took both of his jobs seriously, but it was Stark's call and his insistence as well as Pepper's and Happy's that Barton be left out.

Clint understood that and it slightly bothered him, but what truly got under his skin was that the Iron Man suit, a piece of tech that was just as heavily guarded by- well- other tech and surveillance, was stolen under his watch… not while he was out on a mission for Shield.

"C'mon, we'll fix this." Steve assured him, placing his empty glass on a passing tray.

"Yeah, I know." Barton muttered, as he turned around to face the hotel, leaning back on the railing same as Steve. "Don't tell anyone else this, but… it feels good to be back. I miss this."

Steve smiled. "You know most extractions work best with more than two people."

Barton chuckled. "Boy are you subtle."

He knew this was an offer, and it was an offer Steve had always extended to him for the past year, ever since he'd stopped going under regularly- deciding to focus instead on actual field missions rather than extraction.

Steve didn't even reply. Every time he'd made the offer he was always serious. Extractions always worked better with a couple more people especially the more complex ones. He had a few other partners here and there. He had teamed up with a couple of training Shield agents who were specializing in the somnacin training. However, none of them compared to the team he had put together…

"You know that there are other extractors out there." It was a weak counter, but one Barton knew would convey to Steve his intentions of not coming back to this field for good.

"I only trust three others with my sanity."

Barton turned to his friend wanting to say something about why he didn't want to return and maybe about how much he missed the old team, but instead he settled for a half-smile Steve never saw for his gaze was still looking out over the waters.

The two settled into a comfortable silence while the hotel's party guests buzzed around them. However, though they were silent, the two extractors were far from relaxed. Their senses were peeled, awaiting that bad vibe, looking out for an ominous sign from the projections… It took Steve a moment to realize that the sea had no tide. It was completely calm and still… unnatural and eerie. Then all of a sudden, the waves started to pick up.

"Steve." Barton's voice was low and wary. Something was wrong.

The assassin's sixth sense had gone off just a few moments before and he had been looking around, scanning the projections faces for a familiar one. A familiar face that shouldn't be there. Call it an assassin's sixth sense for something life-threatening… but that sense went off and in a dream-state that only mean one thing. When it wasn't in the immediate vicinity, Barton looked beyond, scanning the windows and floors before settling back onto the balcony and looking at guests on the other side of the balcony. It was then that he saw him, but right off the bat he noticed that the man was different. It didn't take the assassin long to figure out why.

"He's yours." Barton stated, his voice laced with pity and sympathy. Perhaps, after all, his friend might understand why he didn't want to return after all.

Steve followed his friend's gaze and noticed the same person across the balcony. He, too, was bothered by something that was pulling in the back of his head, but he hoped for the better. This was much, much worse, and Barton's words made it even more so.

"Mine?" Steve asked, turning to lock eyes on his parnter, looking for some sort of tell to give him an answer.

"When I see him," Barton said with a nod, confirming Steve's dreaded suspicions, "he looks the same as when he dragged us all down that one time."

"Why didn't you tell anyone?"

"Why didn't you?"

_Because I thought I could handle it myself_. That was the answer… The answer that both men knew they would give each other. It was an answer that they half-believed in themselves.

"I'll grab my gear and clear the vault floor." Barton told him as he straightened up, removing his tie and stuffing it in his jacket pocket before unbuttoning the top buttons of the shirt. "We need to get out of here, now."

Steve merely nodded in reply before Clint headed off back into the hotel leaving him to confront the ghost that had appeared. This wasn't the first time he'd seen him... and after each time something terrible always happened. The first time he'd thought it was a coincidence. It had been a simple one man, one level dream extraction, but on a crime lord. Bucky had appeared when he was in trouble, claiming to be there to help, and at first, Steve believed him. He had thought Bucky merely to be a powerful projection. He'd heard of them, projections of someone- in this case- significant in one's life… sometimes a mind would project the person as a means to make a dreamer connect with the dream. However, sometimes this involved someone dead and if the dreamer had a good grip on reality they could break free of the dreamworld and never connect to it. At that time, Steve chose to believe in the theory, wanting so desperately for it to be true… that he was here to help even if it was only in the dream world. But instead, the mission nearly fell apart and Steve woke up just in time to dodge bullets and call Coulson for an evac team, which got him out of there within no time.

On the way back to base, he tried to recall an instance where he had screwed up- where he had slipped up and let the dreamer realize he was in a dream, not reality. He tried… he frantically went through the dream looking for a flaw, a messy execution, a mistake… none. There was none.

From then on, he knew he had to watch himself and use two level dreams more often than before… which was more unstable, but the only way to give him an out in case things went wrong. It was a precaution. He could only plan out the skeleton of a strategy and improvised the rest to fill in the blanks, which was more of a danger to the extractors rather than the mark. Without a plan to navigate the dream world or pull off the mission, the whole operation would either be in jeopardy or completely fall apart, and in someone's mind that wasn't affordable.

The second time he'd seen Bucky, he had shot him before the shade could do anything, putting the safety of the job first. But afterwards, he'd become so consumed with guilt and remorse that he'd let himself get distracted and the shade appeared once again to taunt him. The next time, he'd attempted a negotiation and ended up killing again, but his friend didn't stay dead.

This would be the fourth time and he knew he had to stop Bucky before he did something to endanger either Clint or himself and sabotage the mission.

Bucky was leaning against the rails, much like the way Clint was doing earlier. Forearms on the rail, eyes out to sea lost in some memory he was reliving for a moment in his mind.

"You do know what he was thinking about, right?" Bucky asked, with a smirk.

"What are you doing here?" Steve asked, ignoring the man's question.

"You know me, Steve." Bucky answered him as if he were unaware of Steve's tone and he threw his friend a familiar smile, the kind that said I'm-practically-your-brother-and-I'm-here-for-you. "I'm always here to help."

"No you're not." Steve snapped his voice harsh and cold, he was locking him out- or at least attempting to. Bucky turned to him… hurt. It was a guilt ploy. Steve saw right through it and didn't betray anything despite the remorse that spiked through him. Those past three encounters kept coming to mind and with it came the distrust that he clung to like a lifeline.

With no reaction, Bucky merely shrugged and turned away. "The ocean's calm." he noted to break the silence. "Remember, that extraction mission in the tropics?"

"Yeah, I do." Steve whispered, dryly. During the mission, when they had to stick around for a night, Bucky had insisted for no mosquito net, saying the room was fine and with the net it felt like a mesh cage.

"Natalie was pissed at me for a week." Bucky recalled, before he seemed to get lost again. His next were barely audible but Steve could make them out. "I miss her."

"I'm sure you do."

That name… Steve hadn't heard that name in- it felt like- ages. And it only served to remind him of reality, that this Bucky wasn't real. However, it didn't mean that it eased his guilt.

"D'ya Miss me?" Bucky asked, and for the first time in a long time, he sounded genuine. No trickery, no guile… nothing. Just pure curiosity from someone who merely wanted to know whether or not his brother ever thought of him. Steve slipped up. He believed him and for one moment, gave in.

"Of course," he answered, "You're like family. Like my brother. You know that."

Bucky arched his eyebrow and his mouth twisted into a wry, amused grin, "Yeah I do." He reached out and clapped Steve on the back a couple times, a once familiar gesture. "Hey, does that make Clint... like my step-brother or something?"

Clint?

Wait- NO!

The vault.

0o0o0

Where the fuck was he?

That thought rang through Barton's mind as he leaned against the wall next to the open vault. Steve was the one with eidetic memory, not him. He'd read the files and left them on the desk for Steve to skim through, but this was a dream, trying to remember very specific detail was near impossible because once you woke up those details are the first to go, unless you've trained yourself or retain all the information you read.

He gave Steve ten more minutes before he drew his gun and headed to the elevator. He should have not left him with a shade… especially since the shade was Steve's. He didn't know how violent Steve's shade was… but this time delay was too long for it to be safe.

The elevator arrived a moment later, but it wasn't empty. Instead, a fresh new wave of security poured out all armed, but that wasn't scary. Not one bit.

"Drop the gun!" one of the guards said.

Clint extended his hands up, but his thumb flicked some setting on the gun that he knew no one caught. He tossed the gun in front of them with a smirk. He stood still, but with his eyes memorized exactly where each man was and noted their weak points. He looked for optimal shots, noted who would be easier to take down and who he should take down first. He had his strategy planned right before a high pitched emission tore through the air and sent the guards yelping in pain, covering their ears. The noise lasted long enough to distract them before it cut itself off. The guards didn't even have time to do anything more but thank God that it had stopped before the shots rang.

When he dry-clicked, Barton emptied the mag and reloaded it.

Thank you, Stark. He thought as he looked at his handiwork. Leave it to Anthony Stark to create some weapons worthy of a James Bond movie.

Suddenly, he heard a gun load and out of his peripheral caught a shadow which showed that someone had a gun trained on him.

Fuck! Why didn't I sense that?

"Turn around slowly." the person ordered.

Oh, that's why. Barton thought, recognizing the voice. He wasn't a threat, even with a gun, and the assassin knew that because from where he stood when he turned around… he saw that the safety on the handgun was still on. Barton merely smirked.

0o0o0

"No." Steve whispered as he turned to glance back at the hotel. As he did, he noticed the party and crowd around him had virtually disappeared. No one was around.

He whirled back to Bucky and caught that smile… wait, smirk? Yes, that was most definitely a smirk.

"I'm sorry," the man said as he shrugged his shoulders innocently, "Forgetting something, Steve? Or someone?"

Gunshots rang around him, but none of them sounded like a Sig. They were gunshots from another night. Steve winced in pain for it sounded as if the shots were live and right around him.

"You know," Bucky started as Steve turned his focus to him and saw he had closed the distance between them a gun drawn in his right hand. But this wasn't the same Bucky. This one was wearing a black vest and long sleeved colorful shirt with dress pants and some fancy shoes. He remembered that job. That trip to Limbo… This was Clint's shade. "If you knew what I knew… then you'd say he deserved this, too."

And he was gone in a blink.

0o0o0

"Thought you could trick me, huh?" Hammer asked as a couple of new guards flanked him. Barton's confidence, however, didn't falter.

"As a matter of fact, yeah I did. To be honest, and let's be honest with each other," Barton answered throwing Hammer's obnoxious words back at him, "we kinda had you, and there is no way you figured out our con."

"Con?" Hammer asked, "Don't you mean job? Extraction and all?"

Barton's smirk faltered.

What? How the hell did he-

"A mutual ally told me." Hammer admitted with a shrug.

Barton's jaw tightened. Ally? It had to be the shade. He needed to make his move before it was too late. As soon, as the guards moved towards him, he charged the nearest one. The man attempted to punch him, but Barton easily deflected the blow, grabbing his wrist before driving his elbow down into the man's arm following that with a swift hit to a nerve cluster in the neck. The second guard was trying to help his partner but Barton kicked him back before snapping the neck of the man closest to him. The last guard was easy to put down for good and the fight was quick and violent. Too bad the fight hid the sound of an approaching enemy.

Something tickled the back of Barton's neck, and he instinctively dropped to a crouch drawing his weapon and firing at the enemy he had sensed behind him. But there was no one there. He could hear Hammer calling for more guards from inside the vault, thinking that he was safe there, but with the shade nowhere was safe. They needed to get out…

He stood up and turned back to head into the vault but instead turned around and found himself face to face with…

"Hey, there, Barton."

A muted gunshot beat Barton to any action or word. His eyes widened and his breath caught in his throat as pain lanced through him. He crumpled to the ground trying to keep the weight off of his shot knee.

"Oh, thank God you're here-" Hammer said as he left the vault. Bucky turned back and Barton took that opportunity to roll onto his uninjured side and fire off a couple of shots, but they went wide of the shade as white flashed across his vision and it swam before him.

Annoyed, Bucky shot once more and white obliterated everything for a heartbeat and agony coursed through his entire being. He writhed, but clenched his jaw to keep the cries of pain from escaping.

"Tsk. Tsk. Tsk" Bucky clicked his tongue as he looked down at him.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Hammer shouted, alarmed. "You- he's going to die-!"

"Nah," Bucky assured the man as he kicked Barton in his side to keep him from fighting back.

Barton struggled to cut himself off from the pain. To focus on the fact that he was lying unhurt a level above, not a scratch and no pain whatsoever. He needed to breathe…

"He's gonna want to though." Bucky said with a smile.

0o0o0

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

Steve ran through the hallways, sprinting up the stairs, taking them two at a time. He knew Bucky wasn't stupid. He would ensure that Clint lived.

_If you knew what I knew… then you'd say he deserved this, too._

Bucky's words weren't his. Steve knew that was that it was Clint's conscience talking. For one who took life on a regular basis, he knew that Clint was holding a lot in, and his mind was projecting it in the wrath of a shade. It was feeding off of that guilt, remorse, and pain, and with all of that inside the shade was going to redirect all of those feelings onto Clint.

Steve hit the vault floor, out of breath, but pushed himself to run through the hallways, jumping over the bodies and towards the vault. Clint should be there… should have been there as Steve turned a corner to the vault. But no… there was no master assassin impatiently waiting for him, there were only more bodies.

"Clint?" Steve shouted, gun drawn and ready for any hostiles that might have heard him, but he highly doubted that Clint left a hostile breathing. However, that didn't answer the question: Where the hell is he? "Clint, answer me, damnit!"

He ran down the hallways, weaved through dead bodies but there was no sign of him. Adrenaline was coursing through his veins. Bucky was a shade… unpredictable to everyone else but to the person projecting him and at this current time, it wasn't Steve. The extractor took a shaky breath, as he realized there was nothing he could do. Wherever his partner was, he was on his own. The only thing Steve could do was complete the extraction before the kick happened.

He easily opened the vault door using a bypass code, and saw that files were spread out neatly across a table in the center of a steel room. There was a spin lock vault door on the other side of the room which held other secrets, but Steve didn't have to do any work to get passed it. Barton had already made the files ready for him. The folders weren't as thick as he thought they would be and as he opened the first one and started reading he realized that the files had been pared down and only the most important details that he needed to remember remained, which only meant that Clint had time to sort through and thoroughly read the files. Steve didn't have time to wonder how long he had left his partner out to the whims of the dreamer because he was speeding through the pages.

In about five minutes, he had learned where Hammer's warehouse was and exactly where the Mark II suit was as well as its current condition. From the blueprint folder, he noted the certain markings on the edges. Dates? He deciphered the rest of the markings as quickly as he could, and when he put it together discovered the markings did indeed translate into dates and they gave him a timeline. According to the numbers, the blueprints were fed to Hammer for the past two and a half months and a watermark on the first page of the blueprint told him that the legal department at Stark's main office building in New York was the source of the leak.

As soon as he'd finished the files, he stacked the papers into a neat pile; and then pulled out his lighter. He couldn't let Hammer retain the knowledge of the suit and the blueprints and judging by the flecks of ashes he saw on the ground Clint had thought the same and had gotten rid of the rest of the information. He lit each of the corners on fire and watched it burn for a moment, but it was a moment too long. Steve had made two mistakes and he mentally berated himself. He had let his emotions get the best of him and had turned his back to the door, and now he was at gunpoint-

"Eject the clip and empty the chamber in both guns." Bucky ordered, his voice echoing in the small steel room. "You know the drill."

Curses streamed through Steve's mind as he saw Clint's shade step into his peripheral. He could also hear the very distinct sound of expensive shoes squeak against tile. Hammer was here, too. Steve reached for his gun, thinking he could perhaps shoot and kill Bucky before injuring Hammer and interrogating him on Clint's whereabouts.

"Slowly, Steve, or I'll shoot your shoulder out of its socket." Bucky threatened, pulling the hammer back on his gun.

Anger coursed like liquid fire through the extractor's veins as he resigned to following the order. He slowly drew the gun, ejecting the clip and emptying the chamber before repeating the process with the spare at his back and under his suit jacket. He kicked the pieces off to the side.

"Hands up." It was Hammer who spoke this time. "Turn around."

Steve did so. He thought to throw a smirk at the mark, get him riled up, but it was Steve who got riled as he spotted the gun Hammer was holding rather carelessly. It was Clint's Sig. He must have stared at it for too long because Hammer caught him and held the gun up.

"Like this?" he mocked as he waved it in the air before he trained it on Steve, "Picked it off your friend."

Steve's jaw tightened and his hands balled into fists. "Where is he?" he seethed through grit teeth.

"Bring him in!" Hammer called as he stepped to the side and away from the door. Steve knew without a doubt that Clint would be brought through the door, bloody and beaten with maybe a busted lip and a swollen eye, but the broken body that was dragged through the door was not what he expected.

Clint?

He could only think of his name, couldn't even make his vocal chords work to even muster it in the back of his throat. He only stared. There were deep cuts that looked like carvings on his body, they weren't deep enough to cause extensive blood loss but shallow enough to cause pain. As two of Hammer's guards dragged the body in a blood trail followed them. The messy lines of red against white tile wrenched at Steve's stomach as he realized that the blood came from the legs.

Clint was thrown onto the table, the still burning files blown away and falling off to the side. Steve noticed that blood was pooling heavily around Clint's knees.

Oh, God.

Clint's knees had been shot out.

"Clint." he choked as he took a step towards him only to have guns pointed at him and warnings shouted out at him.

There was no way that Clint was alive. He prayed, like he never had before that his partner was dead and it was just a mauled body lying in front of him not a living, breathing-

Barton groaned, his non-swollen eye catching his gaze. Steve didn't know it, but Barton was trying to form words, a weak assurance.

"Couldn't kill him." Bucky shrugged, earning such a furious glare from Steve. If looks could kill, the shade would have been torn apart limb from limb, but it didn't and he was merely leaning casually against the wall as if this were nothing.

"We tried to get him to talk." Hammer added, "But he didn't give anything away-"

"You didn't need to!" Steve bellowed, pointing at Bucky, "He knew everything!"

Steve didn't fail to notice that the CEO was genuinely shocked and turned to Bucky with wide and worried eyes.

Bucky shrugged, answered the question before it was spoken. "You didn't ask."

"You said you didn't know-" Hammer said, dropping his guard and easing his grip on the gun.

"Well, I lied!" Bucky shouted, "You're losing focus! This is a dream! You're gonna wake up and Barton here isn't gonna have not a cut or a bruise on him. So relax."

It was a mistake. Bucky shouldn't have turned away, because Steve rushed towards the table where Clint was lying.

"Sorry about this." he whispered before he violently snapped Clint's neck.

0o0o0

He woke up with a scream tearing at his throat. He had bottled it in when he had been cut at and beat, not giving Bucky the satisfaction to know that the cuts were too deep and he could barely take the punches anymore.

He was breathing hard as he shot to his feet, off the recliner shaking off that numbing feeling that had started to seep into his bones within the dream.

"Clint!" someone shouted and soon a dark haired woman rushed to him and was at his side. She held onto his arm, ready to pull him back in case he lost balance or his legs decided to give up on him. "Clint, you okay?"

"Wake him up." he mumbled, giving her a nod to answer her question. But he hadn't been clear enough because she remained by his side. "Janelle, the dream is collapsing, wake him up!"

0o0o0

"Hey, get back!" Hammer shouted, as he tensed up and pointed the gun at Steve. At that moment, the vault began to shake as if struck by an earthquake, but a natural disaster was far from the actual cause.

However, whereas Hammer and his guards were ready to shoot, Bucky only laughed as he shook his head at Steve.

"What are you doing?" Hammer asked, nervously. "We need to-" He was cut off when he lost his balance and fell back against the vault wall.

"We don't need to do anything anymore. He snapped Barton's neck." Bucky said and in a blink of an eye, his appearance shifted once more and it was Steve's shade. "You shouldn't have done that."

Steve smirked, ignoring the bewildered and babbling CEO by the door who couldn't keep his feet planted on the ground. "What are you gonna do, Bucky? Shoot me? Make me hurt until I can't say a word?"

"That's just too easy... for you." Bucky answered.

Steve heard the gunshots again but this time they were combined with familiar voices. They were incredibly loud and resonating in his head. He clapped his hands to his ears in an effort to dampen the noise, but it pierced through and he could start hearing some ringing. Images flashed through his mind, and when he looked up, the area around him shifted. The vault was gone and he was standing on a roof...

"No." he choked out as he shook his head in an attempt to get the image out of his mind.

Not here. No… Not again. Not this.

We're in a vault, Steve! Focus! He yelled in his own head.

He looked up again, but the environment didn't shift back. At the roof's edge were two figures, a woman with dark crimson hair and the person who was holding her there. She looked dazed but managed to keep her balance.

"Nat!" someone shouted.

Suddenly, the ground disappeared under Steve and he found himself flying in the air.

0o0o0

Steve sat by the poolside, head drooping down and his chin to his chest, asleep. Janelle shook him by the shoulders.

"Steve, wake up!" she yelled. "C'mon, wake up!"

She picked his head up, tilting his head to the side and giving him a firm slap. She'd apologize later.

"Steve!" she shouted, "Steve, wake up!"

0o0o0

"Steve! Listen to me! You have to wake up!"

The voice was distant, but it was definitely the voice of Janelle Andrada, an architect Clint trusted.

She must have slapped him because that was the only way to explain the sudden force and disorientation that threw him out of the vault. He thanked his luck he had just been standing in front of the doorway or else he would've still been in the vault. Her slap had woken him from whatever hallucination Bucky had been able to project and once he was able to get to his feet he realized that he had knocked out one of Hammer's guards because they had practically become a human cushion against a concrete wall.

The second guard was charging him, but he wasn't fast enough. Steve drew the handgun from the unconscious guard and fired twice putting the other guard down for good.

His instincts screamed at him to run but his body was rooted to his spot, ready for a fight.

"Steve!" The voice rang around him.

The extractor forced his legs to move and broke into a run for the stairs.

0o0o0

"He's not waking up!" Janelle yelled over at Barton who was pulling something from the top of the PASIV case. He pulled out a syringe from what looked to be a black case, and injected something into Hammer's arm. She guessed it to be some form of sedative to keep Hammer under just in case he was killed in the dream below.

"Dunk him!" Clint ordered before removing the PASIV connector at the man's wrist.

Without hesitation, Janelle tipped the chair back and let Steve fall back into the pool.

0o0o0

Steve's bloodied hands slipped on the handle in his frantic rush to get out that it took him a couple of times to open the door. He slipped into the staircase in the neck of time as bullets tore up the area by the stairs. He barely made it down three flights before he heard something thundering overhead. A couple splashes of water hit him before he stopped and looked up. A deluge of water was headed his way and it looked deadly. He merely smiled as he closed his eyes and took a breath and let the kick take over.

The next thing he knew, he was rising to the surface of a pool, sputtering for breath. At the edge was Janelle, extending her hand out to him.

"Captain Rogers," she said with a smile, "Sorry about that hit."

He smiled as he took her hand and was surprised with how much strength she had as she helped pull him up.

"Well, you do what you need to." he told her as he saw Barton standing off to the side, the PASIV at his feet waiting to be packed. Both Janelle and Steve approached him but it was Steve that asked, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Janelle added as she looked worriedly at her friend. "Are you? You looked like you were in pain."

Barton forced an assuring smile to his face, but Steve easily saw through it. "I'm fine." he told them before he pointed to the pool chair that was sticking out of the pool. "We need to disappear."

When Steve saw Janelle throw him a dubious look, he saw that she too had seen through that fake smile, but she left the two of them to attend to the minimal clean up. Using a close by pool net, she started to fish out Steve's chair.

Steve cleared his throat as he brushed his hand through his wet hair in an attempt to dry it.

"Listen, about what happened back there," he started to apologize, "I -I took too long-"

"Don't start." Barton said dismissively, "There's no need to. I get it. Besides, this isn't my first brush-in with him."

"When was it?"

"Three months back. He jeopardized my mission." It was a straight answer that told Steve he wasn't going to elaborate, not now at the least. Barton looked beyond Steve and to his friend who was able to pull the chair up from the water. "We need to get to a safe place. A place _we_ can control."

"This is her dream. We're fine here." Steve assured him slightly glancing back.

"This is a dreamshare and she hasn't met a shade. We can easily project something into this world." Clint said worriedly as he packed the PASIV. "How long do we have left?"

"Hours."

"Alright, everything's back to normal." Janelle told them as she rejoined them, a wet woven poolside chair back in its place by a table on the other side of the pool. "We can disappear now."

However, instead of moving, silence settled between the three of them and it made Janelle guess she should leave them.

"I'll go… warm up the car." she told them as she left them and slid the back door open.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang and everyone turned to the door.

"Is he projecting a guest?" Janelle asked them, going to answer it.

Barton and Steve drew their weapons and ran after her.

"No!"

"Get away from the door!"

The architect's reaction was lightning fast, rolling off to the far side of the room as shots tore through the door tearing up the furniture as it ripped a path through the house. Steve and Barton dove for cover behind a bar.

"Janelle! You okay?" Barton called as the door was kicked in and more shots were fired.

The wood was splintering around the two extractors, but the bar was made of brick, too, so their cover held. They almost instantly leaned out from their cover to return fire at the shade the moment there was a gap in the gunfire, but when they did, there was already a body on the ground.

Clint kicked the body over onto so the man lay on his back and looked impressed as he saw three shots arranged in a triangle at the heart. Steve made a beeline for the injured woman and saw the bloody shoulder she was covering with her hand in an attempt to put pressure on the wound. He sat at her injured side and applied pressure to her shoulder.

"Nice shot." he complimented.

She winced and grit her teeth but she managed to turn her grimace into a grateful smile.

"You didn't even see the body." she told him.

"Three heart shots." Barton said as he stood in front of her. "Let me end this."

She raised her gun and pointed it at him. "Don't you dare shoot me."

"There's nothing left here. Mission's over." Barton told her.

"I'll wait it out." she panted, "If there's anything I never want to get used to seeing. It's a good friend kill me."

"Here's hoping you never will." Steve said as he suddenly applied a great pressure onto her injury. She snapped at him.

"_Ow_!" she cried, glaring at him.

But soon her pain ended and the last gunshot rang in the house.

Steve eased the body to the ground, closing her eyes before he stood up. He looked back only to see Barton punch the wall, denting it.

"She'll be fine, Clint." Steve assured him.

"She shouldn't have been here! We should've grabbed another extractor. Not her!" Barton said, looking at her.

"Stop that!" Steve shouted slightly frustrated at Barton's remorse, "This was a choice and it was a damn good one. We would still be under fire from him right now if it was someone not her."

"We endangered her!" Clint countered, yelling. "Bucky's trying to shoot us out of the dreams-"

"We didn't know he'd be here!" Steve cut in. "Jesus- calm down!"

But Barton didn't, he merely kept quiet. He was letting that guilt simmer within him. His shade was violent. He should have let Steve know. Should have told him and never let Janelle on board.

Suddenly, the two heard the familiar notes of Schubert's _Rosamunde_ echo in the dream world which only mean in a few seconds-

0o0o0

"I hate you." Janelle whispered to her friend as she crossed her arms, glaring at Barton.

"Janelle? What are you-" Clint started before he caught someone out of his peripheral vision and looked up only to catch sight of his boss.

The conference room they had scheduled the extraction in was well hidden from outside eyes. The glass was translucent and multicolored and they had a biometric lock that kept the door from being opened. Yet somehow, Director Nick Fury had gotten in.

And he had been very silent. He was standing behind Janelle who was seated with her back towards him and unaware he was there even when Clint spotted. The woman barely sensed his presence and the moment she guessed he was close enough pushed her chair back into him ready to stab him with a knife she procured from her belt, but Barton was fast. He was between the two, his friend and his boss before either had a chance to unload their weapons into each other. One hand held Fury's gun up to the ceiling, the other hand stopped Janelle's at an angle that was wide of Fury's head.

Steve let out a sigh of relief as Barton looked between the two.

"Boss, Janelle Andrada, extractor and architect." Barton introduced looking from his boss to his friend, "Janelle, this is my boss-"

"Director Nicholas Fury of the Shield Agency." Janelle finished off as she looked down to see Barton wasn't budging. "Almost had me."

"You were off." Fury pointed out, eyes at Barton's hand holding her off.

Something clicked in her hand and the blade shot out like a bullet embedding itself inches into the closest wall. Fury didn't look impressed, but that near imperceptible twitch Barton caught was the only thing that gave it away.

"You wouldn't have even gotten close." Fury said.

"It would have been fun if I did." Janelle replied.

The two then looked at Barton, who slowly released the their wrists and backed up slowly. The blade retracted into the knife with a flick of Janelle's wrist and she clipped it back onto her belt as Fury holstered his weapon.

"I'm guessing this is where I take my leave. You know, mission accomplished and what-not." Janelle said as she looked over at the sedated CEO. "Or you guys go on and I'll clean up."

"I've got people here for that." Fury told her before turning to his agent and his consultant.

"Captain Rogers, Agent Barton, with me." he ordered them, "It was nice to meet you, Andrada."

"Same here, sir." she said before hugging Steve goodbye as he passed by her to go follow Fury. When Barton leaned in for the same gesture, she pushed him away, her palm pressing against his forehead to keep him back. He threw her a questioning look and before she could say anything she tapped him on the forehead. "You shot me… _in the head_!" She tapped his forehead for each word.

"You were in pain!" he said, indifferent to her actions, "Besides you said you didn't want to see and you didn't."

"Steve was a distraction." she realized as she glared back to the door. "Ugh, next time I see him, I'll punch him."

"Good luck with that." Barton smiled as he started to leave, but he hesitated at the door. "When will we see you again?"

He turned back for her answer only to see her give him a friendly smile.

"I dunno, Clint." she told him as she gestured to the hallway outside. "Ya know, your boss is gonna leave ya behind."

He only chuckled as he let the lock scan his fingers. He was out the door and down the hall following Fury. He knew it would be a long time before he ever saw that woman again, if he ever did.

0o0o0

Fury led his men to another conference room on a different floor. This room was also locked but this time with a piece of Stark biometric tech, which meant that whoever Jarvis had in his database was allowed in, and out of Shield there were few people Stark ever bothered to get registered in his AI's system.

Fury had settled in at the head of the table while Steve and Barton sat across from each other and a couple seats away from him, which amused Fury more than anything.

"So, what's so important that you activated Barton's GPS chip?" Steve queried as he leaned his seat back.

All Shield agents had a GPS tracker, one that allowed any Shield agent with the right access code to find their location any time of the day. If field operatives were to go on a mission, they would be 'tagged' with a special tracker that was applied to them through a spray. The tech in the spray were nano-sized transmitters which emitted their own signature and could be tracked everywhere and anywhere on the planet.

Though not a Shield agent and just a consultant, Steve knew a lot of Shield's procedures, which would have been a problem if he didn't know so many high ranking Shield agents and assisted them on a daily basis on the field. He also knew passcodes that would give him access to Shield tech, satellite codes, and even Shield safehouses. He knew nearly all of the codenames or aliases of Barton, Natasha, Coulson, and Hill. And he knew that Barton's GPS tracker was located in his kinetically operated watch which was on his left wrist.

"I've got a delicate mission for you." Fury answered as he turned to something that had been set up behind him. Neither man had seen it when they entered, and for a moment exchanged curious glances, but when small files projected onto the room's windows, the two only looked around them in awe.

It wasn't Stark's latest holographic tech but an older version, which left the images to be projected onto a surface, in this case the translucent windows. It still impressed the pair who rarely saw any use of the tech beyond Stark's walls. Whatever files were projected for Barton were mirrored on Steve's side. Folders, screens of information, projections, everything was there.

"We were able to obtain some of Stark's tech." Fury explained to them as he pulled up a file and made a copy sending it out to both of them.

The two wordlessly stood from their seats and opened the given folder. The individual documents spread out across the windows over the other information automatically, and the two extractors found themselves staring at information on Midgard International, specifically on their board of directors, also called the Asgardian Council.

"Midgard Internation?" Steve asked, recognizing the logo, "Last time I checked, they weren't a threat. In fact, they're one of Shield's greatest allies-"

"Steve-" Barton interrupted as he had already started to skim the pages, "Start at page seven."

Steve looked back to his folder and took out the page. It took a minute or two to fully absorb the single-spaced typed page. "Loki Odinson? The heir to the corporation."

"Former heir." Fury corrected, "Read on."

Steve and Barton did, Steve the faster of the two.

The page on Loki told them that he was Odin's younger son and was Odin's heir due to Thor's exile from Asgard. On the Council, Loki was a specialist at alliances and deals, and was known to be tricky. He could even find legal loopholes and twist words to help the corporation. Of course, Shield and the Council itself watched and monitored him and his actions, but never had they suspected anything far from the better interest of the company and the safety of the general public. In Thor's absence, Loki had been the ideal candidate for succession. However, when he pushed for an alliance with Jotun corp, a ploy to hide his true intentions which were to plant spies within the corporation and eventually orchestrate a hostile takeover, many tried to persuade him out of it and saw this action as the start of heading down a dark road for Midgard. Among those many was Shield, who tried to show Loki there was a lack of resources and men to pull off his plan. Upon Thor's return however, the Allfather declared his original will remain which meant that Thor was still the heir. The next page was a detailed affidavit from Council Member Heimdall that told of Loki's odd behaviors and disappearances from Palace Tower.

It was the next page… a written report from Natasha… that worried Steve as he read through it, and he knew that if he himself was nervous then Barton was anxious and probably was only now reading faster than Steve.

The report detailed Natasha's encounter with an extraction team tailing Thor while she was assigned to be his shadow. She had been compromised by the extractors, but quickly turned the table on them, recovered Thor, and captured the team. However, she had been too late to stop them from burning Thor's memory, which according to the team leader during an interrogation, was what they had been doing so far for the past couple of weeks since his return.

As Steve reached the end of the file, he thought it remained incomplete, that there was something missing.

"Where's the rest of it?" he asked as he closed all of his files.

"The details will be complete once I put in the passcode." Fury said, "This PASIV case has whatever details we have gathered that are relative, and this case will remain with you if you accept the mission."

"This isn't an extraction job." Barton stated as he closed up his files. From his body language, Steve saw that Clint was tense. "What exactly is the mission, sir?"

Fury took a moment, as if careful with his words. "During that interrogation, Agent Romanoff recruited Agent Sharon Carter to help her, and they performed a dreamshare interrogation."

To both Steve and Barton, that sounded odd but not for the reasons Fury believed them to be. He didn't bother to ask and went on to explain, "They were able to get the name of their employer.

"It's Loki." He paused, seeing the mild surprise play out on his men's faces. "We haven't told Thor, but Agent Romanoff has taken the responsibility to do so once I have either a confirmation or a declination."

"Sir, what is the mission?" Barton asked before Steve could do so in a less abrasive tone.

Fury knew his agent's feelings on missions that involved a team dreamsharing, but he needed to ask them and he gave them a one word answer. One word… that was their mission.

"Inception."

If you didn't know it, you would have thought time froze in the room. Steve and Clint stared at the Director of Shield waiting for a "Just joking" or "I'm kidding." They waited for something- anything along those lines… but Fury didn't say anything of the sort. In fact, he didn't say anything at all and his stonewall expression switched between his agent and his consultant.

It was Steve who was the first to gather his thoughts and put them into words.

"Sir, inception is incredibly delicate and isn't as easy as it sounds. Just because it was successful once before doesn't hold true to whatever mission you have planned." the Captain informed him.

"I know that, Captain." Fury stated, "And I know that this task is incredibly difficult even near impossible… which is why I thought to bring you two in and let you recruit a team of other dreamshare experts. Do whatever you need to do."

"Sir-" Barton cut in, "Inception isn't delicate… it's extremely unpredictable. The idea might not even take after all the work is finished, and if it did there's no guarantee that it is permanent. Not only that, but inception is incredibly dangerous… more dangerous than anything you've assigned our team to do before. Every single person that is involved in the dream has a chance to… well, not wake up."

"Do you mean, to die?"

"No, not exactly. They could fall into Limbo, and if Limbo becomes your reality… then, you are lost down there." he hesitated for a brief moment before he brought up a dark memory, "Sir, you know what happened to James Barnes."

"And if I recall the files right, you performed inception on him." Fury said.

"We…- what?" Barton asked bewildered before turning to Steve, who Fury had addressed. "Cap?"

Steve cleared his as he rolled the chair back towards him and took a seat once more. He took a moment, and leaned forward, elbows on his knees… when he looked up at Clint an apology was etched onto his face.

"You weren't there." Steve told him before he looked away, "It was… before Tony and I got to you. I knew Bucky didn't have a vault or a tower of memories like what we had…. He had something more personal… a small apartment, and it was virtually his mind. It was organized and everything in there was basically a different aspect of him.

"While Tony was building us escape routes, I found it…" he paused, staring off in the distance, recalling the memory in his mind, "And I planted a small idea in his mind.

What idea?

The question hung in the air. It didn't need to be told and Steve didn't break his trance to bother to look at anyone.

"Your world… isn't real."

The silence that passed was for the moment measured in breaths and it took a lot before Steve finally turned back to his friend and glanced at the Director, "It was the only way I could-" he choked on his words and gave up trying to defend himself. He had done so before, fought against his guilt which yelled at him in his head, in his dreams, in his memories… he couldn't say anything anymore.

"Rogers." Fury picked up almost a heartbeat after Steve lost his words, "You were all trapped. Barnes was lost. You took the road that would ensure that everyone came out of there alive and sane. I read Stark's report."

As if looking for a distraction both men turned to Fury and asked in unison, "Tony wrote a report?"

Fury saw it, how fast those two could bury their emotions. He blinked and there were two different men in front of him from the two that had been there only a minute before. He knew that subject of inception wasn't done with… but he went along with the diversion.

"Yes," he answered them, "I think he wrote it because he knew the two of you would leave out something and I couldn't pass up reading up on Stark's opinion.

"Now, about this mission-"

"Director, I-" Barton started, about to decline, but Steve was faster.

He stood and said, "_We_ accept." And earned a look of horror and shock from his partner.

"Good," Fury stated as he eyed the door, knowing that he had to make a quick escape before the two started to argue and Barton was able to formally relinquish the mission. "There's a quinjet on the roof for you, Agent Barton. I'll be seeing the two of you at Helicarrier." He was almost at the door.

"Director, wait!" Barton said, "Steve's a bit out of it from the earlier encounter..."

Encounter? Fury found that to be an odd word.

"No, I'm not!" Steve countered.

"We're going to have to decline the offer. So you can-"

"Take off, Director. We _do_ accept the mission." Steve had maneuvered around the table and stood in front of Barton before he could intercept his boss who was able to leave the room and head down the hallway.

Barton slipped passed Steve easily and was about to grab the PASIV when Steve grabbed him by the shoulder.

"Stop!" Steve shouted, but Barton brushed him off grabbing his wrist and twisting it, a silent warning.

And it was a warning Steve promptly ignored when Clint let go of his wrist. He attempted a hit a nerve cluster in his lower back but Clint must have anticipated it because he whirled around with a guard, knocking Steve off balance. It was surprising that Steve was able to duck Clint's elbow but he did, only to get hit with an uppercut into a chest which completely winded him.

It was pure instinct that had made Clint react, and he didn't have time to apologize. While Steve was down, he grabbed the PASIV and typed in a bypass code into the Stark tech lock, tailing his boss.

He was going to return the PASIV and with that reject the mission, and that would be it.

He thought it was going to be that simple, but as he turned the corner he saw a ladder start to pull away from a floor-to-ceiling-window which was completely removed from place. It was too late, Fury was gone and the mission was theirs. Formality screwed him over this time, in viewing the files he was a part of the mission, and with the mission being inception there was no way he was going to sit on the sidelines and merely be a consultant.

I need to shoot something. He thought as he approached the window, seeing the chopper fly off and the ladder retracting into the chopper itself. Barton gave a frustrated sigh as he leaned against the wall, and as he looked down at the case he realized that without it…

"Clint, give me the PASIV." Steve's voice came out of nowhere and was out of breath.

"I really punched you hard back there, didn't I?" Barton chuckled as he saw Steve leaning against the at the opposite end of the hall breathing hard.

"Geez, I really hate being at the end of that." Steve muttered, but Barton heard him and smiled, but his hatred for the mission didn't abate.

"Let me end this." he told Steve, who at the sound of that pushed himself off the wall. He was remaining calm while he wanted to scream, flexed his muscles when he wanted to be still ready to throw that PASIV into the air and shoot it until he dry clicked.

"Clint-" Steve started, feeling his ribs protest against moving.

Jesus- Barton was pissed, alright.

"What the hell were you thinking, Steve?" Barton asked, head against the wall slightly turned to him, but still looking up at the ceiling as if thinking about something. "Inception? One of the most dangerous dream operations… It requires sedation, you know that right? We die, he's got us…"

"Take it easy," Steve said calmly as he slowly approached his friend, "I know this sounds impossible… hell, we know it's almost impossible, but we can work around the dreamers."

"Work around?" Barton shouted as he pushed himself off the wall and stood in front of the window. He held the PASIV out over the edge, hundreds of feet in the air. "A team? Your subconscious… mine… they can bleed through. Why the hell did you accept the mission?"

"Midgard International. You know how important they are, they're practically a superpower-"

"Bullshit, you wouldn't endanger everyone's sanity just for that." Barton said, his grip on the PASIV's handle becoming viselike. Honestly, he was ready to throw it. "I swear to god, Steve, I will throw the PASIC out of this fucking window if you don't tell me _right now_ why you thought taking this goddamn job was a good idea, what with Bucky running around in our heads trying to shoot us out of our dreams!"

"Can't you feel it, Clint? The thrill to be back in the dream… it's like a drug if you want to return to it, merely a job if you don't. But you want to go back… you miss it. You told me yourself." Steve said, hands outstretched as he approached, "This shade is a problem and if it's a problem for us…"

He trailed off purposely, hoping Clint would draw the worst conclusion and his emotions would continue to take over. And judging by the fear and anxiety that flashed through Clint's eyes, he knew that his mind had gone to the worst.

"We need to deal with it, and what better in an environment neither us nor the shade can control." Steve said, "But we need to go under as a team."

Steve didn't have long to wait long for a reaction. Barton stepped forward and reluctantly tossed the PASIV at Steve as he headed towards the stairs.

"You better hide that fucking case until we reach Stark Tower." Barton seethed as he entered the stairwell only to wait for Steve, holding it open for him.

Meanwhile, in the hallway, Steve took a moment to wince and rub his bruised chest, but he brushed off the pain as he passed Barton and headed upstairs.

"Sorry, I punched you." Barton apologized.

"Reflex?" Steve was referring to Barton's training.

"Yep." Barton affirmed, instantly knowing what he was saying.

"Sorry, I just forced you to help me perform inception." Steve apologized.

"Reflex?" Barton was referring to how Steve always did the right thing and did best by everyone, even if no one really agreed with it.

"What is?" Steve asked obliviously.

"Nothin'." Barton shrugged with a smile as he passed Steve to get to the roof. He needed to use his Shield passcode on the number pad that locked the door and beyond it lay a brand new quinjet.

"So, are we just gonna interrupt Stark's night?" Steve asked.

"He and Pepper are together now, there's nothing we can interrupt that they can't do later." Barton replied as they approached the Helicarrier, "Well, there is something, that Stark will probably kill me for-"

"So, let's call, first." Steve suggested as the quinjet opened to them. "Hmm, key must've been the PASIV."

"Guess so. It's a good thing I didn't shoot that thing then." Barton said as they walked in, "And nah, a surprise will annoy Stark and how many times has he annoyed the both of us."

"You're right." Steve admitted as he hid the PASIV, Barton heading to the pilot's seat. In no time at all, music started blasted over the stereo.

Was that….?

Familiar chords ripped through the air and echoed around him as the engine started up. Steve took his seat and buckled up.

"Really, Clint?" he asked as the lyrics started.

_Livin' easy, livin' free. Season ticket on a one-way ride. Asking nothing, leave me be. Taking everything in my stride._

"Hey, pilot picks the music. Extractor who got us involved with inception shuts the hell up." Barton merely answered before he started singing the song seeing Steve was going to bother him.

"Barton-" Steve said as they took off and zoomed across the sky.

"I'm on the highway to hell-" Barton sang along, ignoring Steve.

"Barton!"

"On the highway to hell-"

Steve sighed. He didn't know how to engage the reflector panels, but it was night… they were okay, right? Eh, better safe than sorry. Steve started to flip a couple of switches and succeeded in turning on the quinjet's lights... the very opposite of what he wanted.

"What the-" Barton cried as he turned off the lights and then turned a very annoyed expression at Steve.

"Reflector panels, rock star." Steve mocked throwing back the look as he leaned back in his seat.

0o0o0

"They actually accepted," Fury said into his comm, watching clouds pass by from the seat in the chopper.

He was heading back to the Helicarrier to make sure that things were ready and operable by the time Rogers and Agent Barton arrived within the next 48 hours.

"Without a problem, sir?" Coulson asked, impressed.

"No," Fury answered, "Barton wanted to decline but Rogers didn't let him. I don't think his choice has anything to do with inception, however."

"Perhaps, it's the team involved." Coulson suggested. He may or may not have been referring to the flurry of suggestions about Barton and Romanoff which have been flying around base and elsewhere lately, but the thought came to mind.

"Maybe," Fury mused before he changed topic, though should anything come in to question with the Council he would vehemently defend his agents. "What is Agent Romanoff's assessment of Thor's memories?"

"He hasn't lost more than a month, sir. Though he is a bit shaken about the whole ordeal. He's requesting to fly in Jane Foster, Erik Selvig, and Darcy Lewis." Coulson reported.

"Grant it," Fury said, "As long as Romanoff deems it safe. Though the man deserves to see his friends we don't want to reintroduce them too soon. And have them briefed on his condition."

"Yes, sir." Coulson replied, "Oh, and by the way, has Stark been brought into the loop yet?"

"Not yet." Fury answered, "But I'm sure he will be soon."

0-0-0

_**Hallo! Don't forget to check out the original fic on tumblr (check on my profile). It has the inspiration for the fic and it looks prettier. :]**_


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter Two:

Embedded into a mountain, the cave he was in would have been a haven from the searing heat outside, but for the past couple of months he wanted to be anywhere out there. As long as it was far from here… that's where he wanted to be. But nothing could change what happened because there was no such thing as time travel. Besides if there was, there was no way he could build a machine with the scrap materials he had at hand.

There was, however, something he could build instead of the missile that the terrorists wanted. It was what was turning this would-be-heat-haven into a sauna… well that, and the fact that he was pulling an all-nighter to get this finished and not giving himself a breather. He couldn't help it… when he was in the zone- he was _in the zone!_

Anthony Stark, CEO of Stark Industries, hammered out at the hot metal that lay before him. The tech was done… almost everything was finished.

Some assembly required… the genius mused as he finished what would be a rudimentary mask.

Time blurred and he didn't know how long it was. Yinsen had taken a couple of cat naps off to the side while Tony finished up. Tomorrow, while the Ten Rings was gonna expect a missile they were gonna get something ten times more devastating… if he could say so himself.

He was in the suit before he knew it… the scrap metal thing as ready as it could ever be. The operation program merely needed time to load and then he'd be able to get out of there. As Yinsen helped him suit up, they reviewed the map of the cave. How many steps, which way to turn… everything. They needed to follow the plan… follow the plan and everything would work out… right?

Wrong.

That bomb went off too soon. The program was still loading…. it wasn't Stark tech at its finest. It would take precious time and both Tony and Yinsen knew that.

"You need more time." the older man stated as he looked beyond the door to the cave's tunnels which would soon be flooded with terrorists ready to respond to the explosion. Tony needed just a few minutes… only a couple of minutes…

"Stick to the plan!" Tony shouted out him as the man took up a gun from a fallen bastard and started firing as he ran down the tunnels. "No! Stick to the plan!"

But it was useless… He couldn't chase him. He couldn't even move. The gunfire that echoed around him brought up the worst possibilities.

Stay alive. I'll get us out of this.

It was a hope.

Ah, screw the plan. Take them all down, destroy the weapons they stole from him, and last but certainly not least- get him and Yinsen the hell out of there. That was the new plan.

The program loaded and helmet closed down. The gunfire got louder and thundered in his head.

So loud.

Piercing.

0o0o0

Tony woke up with a slight jolt. His eyes snapped open and it sounded as if something were ringing in his ears.

Fear coursed through his veins when he didn't see what he wanted to… when everything was merely darkness and nothing was familiar. His heart raced. But as his eyes adjusted and he picked his head up from the pillow to look around the room, he recognized the familiar surroundings. He took a couple deep breaths, leaning back into his pillow.

When he was finally calm, he sat up and swung his legs out over the bed from under the sheets. The soft carpet under his feet was a comfort. He flexed his toes, enjoying the feel of… whatever this furry thing was made of.

He wasn't in a cave. He wasn't even in a desert. He was in his bedroom, in his tower, in the concrete jungle known as New York City. He sighed, as he leaned his elbow to his knees and dipped his head forward allowing it to be supported by the backs of his hands. His body felt sore… as if he'd been in that damned Mark I suit. He flexed his shoulders as if trying to shrug off the soreness from such a heavy armor. It was hard to believe he'd come so far and that he'd gone from Mark I to Mark VII in such a short time… well, then again… not really- he was after all Tony Stark.

He was just about to get up when an arm reached out over his shoulder, snaking over his upper chest holding him in place at the edge of the bed. Someone shifted behind him and he could smell the faint smell of the perfume she'd lightly sprayed on herself several hours ago. She used him as an anchor to pull herself up and leaned against the back of his chest. Flesh on flesh… he closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of it with a grin on his face. He would've made a joke… said something… but that dream – rather a nightmare- kept coming to mind along with the others just like it.

"Tony?" Pepper Potts' voice was groggy, but nonetheless sweet and caring as it usually was. He didn't say anything and she thought it odd. "By now I'm giving you a smack for an innuendo or a joke. What's wrong?"

He beamed as he turned back to her. Oh, she knew him so well.

"Nightmares again?" she asked quietly.

He was about to answer her, but he didn't want to get into a conversation on how he should talk to someone. How maybe he should tell Steve or maybe Coulson or Clint… She knew about the nightmares and she knew that they were the same. That some were a sick perversion of the true events… He didn't want to talk about it. Pepper was gonna be his only confidant on this.

"You're so warm." he whispered as he turned to face her and gave her a winning smile.

"Tony." she said as her eyebrows arched knowing the answer to her question. Tony knew what she was gonna say next and beat her to the punch.

"I don't need to talk to anyone." he told her, "It's not like I have nightmares every night."

It was partly true. When he was just too exhausted he never really dreamt… he just woke up in a cold sweat.

She threw that "sure" look, and seemed to relent because she looked more tired than anything.

"If not the dream expert, at least your best friend." she mumbled as she settled back onto the bed behind him, taking her delightful warmth with her.

"Best friend?" he asked glancing back at her, but her eyes were closed. "Who can possibly be considered my best friend?!"

She muttered something he couldn't hear, but he didn't want to bother her anymore so he stood up. Only to get hit with a cold draft that… He hissed between his teeth. He needed shorts…he was freezing. He reached down and searched the ground until his hands came across his boxers and then his pants. Perfect… he didn't even have to turn on the lights.

He easily navigated his room in the dark and slipped out the door so quietly it was infiltrator-worthy. Usually Natasha or Clint teased him about how "clunky" he moved about.

Okay, it wasn't a shock that Ms. Ballerina had the grace to move around without making a sound, but Barton… that guy was muscle. Muscle wielding a Paleolithic weapon… How the hell was he so quiet?

Quiet.

Clint.

A memory surfaced… and a waking nightmare completely took over. Blood. Silence. Empty eyes and a bloody suit.

"Tony!"

Two voices broke through and snapped him out of it. As he focused straight ahead, he noticed he was heading to the bar on the far side of the living room passing the kitchen and the counter where Clint Barton and Steve Rogers were sitting at, each man with their own drink. If they hadn't called out to him, Tony would've been zoned out pouring himself a glass of whiskey.

The man shrugged and walked towards his friends. He stopped at the third seat at the counter and sat down without a word. He merely looked down at their drinks and noticed Rogers was having iced tea and Barton had a mug of steaming hot coffee… oh, God- that was Barton's coffee… Barton's infamous coffee.

"Make me a cup." he merely said in Barton's direction, groggy as hell. He didn't realize how tired he actually was until he had sat down and now he was feeling like crap.

He closed his eyes for a moment, propping his head up instead of lying face first on the counter. He heard movement and the sound of ceramic hitting the countertop. He opened his eyes by just a fraction to see that Barton's mug was now in front of him, and the Shield agent was maneuvering around the counter to the prep station on the other side which had a coffee maker.

"Didn't drink any, "Barton explained to him, "I'll make another one."

Tony didn't argue or reject it. He took a sip, allowing the not-too-hot liquid to warm him up. It woke him up for a bit.

"Good God, how the hell do you do this?!" he asked as he put the mug down and looked up.

It was a very strange phenomenon even the great Tony Stark wasn't able to crack… Barton could make a cup of coffee that could keep you up for the next couple of hours- and it was amazing! And even though everyone was given the recipe even the exact measurements of each of the ingredients, no one – not even Jarvis with his micromeasurements- could get it right. Sure someone would get close –so freakin' close- but then it would be off just by a little bit and you could just taste it. And it annoyed the hell out of you that it wasn't perfect. Even though Natasha suggested it was probably just a psychological thing, Barton actually tested it out. One day, Jarvis had made the coffee without anyone else but Clint's knowledge. Everyone- and everyone meant Fury, Hill, Coulson, Sharon, Rogers, Natasha and even the occasional Shield agents that knew about the damn coffee- got the coffee and panicked when it wasn't the same. The result shocked everyone especially Barton, but from then on almost everyone had given up on trying to replicate the coffee leaving only Barton to brew it. The only time anyone ever tried was when they were desperate- and in the past six months of Barton's absence, everyone got desperate at least once. Tony would never admit how many times he had Jarvis try to brew a perfect cup.

Barton merely shrugged as he started to boil the water.

"Anyways, what're you guys doing here at," he asked catching the time on the clock from the microwave, "Four in the morning?"

"We would've been here hours earlier," Barton replied as he turned to Steve, "If someone had radioed Shield to get us air clearance."

Steve smiled sheepishly as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, I couldn't figure out which thing was the radio."

"You see if you'd let me show you around the quinjet. We would've been here hours ago!" Barton pointed out.

"If you were here hours ago, I would've fired you." Tony inputted his tone stuck in between mockery and sincerity.

Steve chuckled and Barton scoffed, "Yeah right."

"If you haven't noticed…" Tony started, "I've been doing fine without you."

Barton stopped whatever he was doing to focus on Tony, "You blew your cover. The world knows you're Iron Man. You, Pepper, and Hogun nearly got killed in Monaco. And not to mention Hogun's retired from security."

"Hey, I think I did okay!" Tony replied in his defense before amending himself, "Besides Happy resigning and… Monaco…" Both Rogers and Barton were staring at him. "It could've been worse, the city could be on fire."

Funny enough, both men took it as a satisfactory excuse and turned back to their drinks, or in Barton's case preparing his. Silence fell upon the trio for a couple of minutes, but of course Tony was the one to break it.

"So, how'd the extraction go?" he asked. His cup was half empty and he was starting to feel that caffeine. He also didn't fail to notice that Barton's good mood swiftly changed…

"We got the info and destroyed it." Steve replied as he finished his drink, leaning over the counter to empty the ice into the sink along with the glass. "Rhodey and the air force reclaimed it a little over an hour ago."

"Wait, Rhodey? What about Shield? That's _my_ Mark II!" Tony shouted.

"As far as Shield is concerned," Barton picked up, "Rhodey's air force and with direct orders to claim a part of Stark tech. You're lucky it was just the Mark II."

"The Mark II has the potential to be easily weaponized! My tech in the hands of the government? Don't you know-"

"Shield is watching over whatever the Air Force decides to do with the suit. If they weaponize it, let them." Rogers said in an effort to calm him, "Your actions several months ago weren't really reassuring to everyone." Tony knew he was referring to the time he thought he was dying and was more reckless than ever. "Just leave the military with a _piece_ of tech, no one's smart enough to rebuild it anyways so what's the harm?"

Damn Rogers and his loyalty and logic. Sure, the man was a highly decorated soldier, but he was patriotic to the point where Tony saw some naiveté about the man's thinking when it concerned military forces. He was still right though and Tony was just gonna give him this victory. Even he wouldn't have trusted himself months before… he barely even recognized himself. He tried to cope and nearly ended up destroying himself… quite literally. However, if this was gonna get the military off his ass then fine…

He resigned with a huff, slumped his shoulders, and settled on finishing off his coffee. However, he noticed that Barton was still… bothered.

Tony sighed, "Spill it, Barton."

Barton glared at Rogers as he said, "The info wasn't all we found." His voice was so eerily calm and steady but Tony could hear the anger in it.

"Before we get into the details," Tony said, "Does this have anything to do with what Shield wants to ask me?"

"Shield wants to-" Barton started confused as he pulled out from a cabinet a package of cinnamon sticks, brown sugar and two packets of white sugar. He placed them on the counter before he continued. "When did Shield call you?"

"Yesterday." Tony answered as if it weren't news. Well, to Barton it shouldn't have been, as his as-of-now-returning head of security and even back before his leave, Barton was on top of all news and actions Shield was taking when it concerned Stark Industries. Yet now, the Shield agent was completely oblivious.

Barton and Rogers exchanged glances.

"Natasha's run in with the extraction team happened only last week." Rogers stated.

"Last Thursday." Tony supplied, earning a look of surprise from both men. He shrugged, "I dropped in on the Helicarrier recently."

They all knew that meant he had hacked the servers while he was on board and the PA systems kept playing "Shoot to Thrill" every time he entered a room.

"Coulson was in charge, so I thought it'd be fun." Tony added as he finished his coffee and also placed his mug in the sink. He stretched a bit as he waited for the coffee to kick in.

"If they were gonna ask him… why did Fury-" Steve started to ask when Barton cut in.

"Insurance." he seethed, "To make sure _everyone_ was on the same page by tomorrow."

Damn, the coffee wasn't kicking in yet. Tony wanted to make a joke but words or insults weren't coming to mind… well good ones at least.

"You think he's got something else planned?" Rogers asked.

"What?" Tony said sarcastically, "The master spy doesn't have anything planned?"

Both men glared momentarily at him before Tony said, "You gonna tell me what's got both your panties in a twist?"

"Shield's got a job for us. A team job." Rogers said.

Tony didn't really mind team jobs. It meant that everyone was together… all in one space. Sure, they drove each other crazy sometimes, but that crazy was the fun he needed once in a while. However, with the timing of Natasha's extraction encounter, Tony had a pretty good idea what the team job was about.

"Extraction?" Tony asked before either man could say.

"Inception." Rogers corrected as Barton started pouring out his coffee. "What do you know about it? What do you think?"

Tony scoffed and chuckled.

Good one.

That was what he planned to say, but then he reevaluated the sincerity in Steve's eyes and saw that the veins on Barton neck seemed to be more visible…

They were dead serious.

Shield was gonna ask them, Rogers, Barton, Natasha, and himself, to incept someone.

"What do I think?" Tony asked, "I think that you three would be better off trying to become geniuses like me, and it would be easier for me to become a sexy Russian spy."

"So there isn't a chance?" Rogers clarified, and Tony arched an eyebrow trying to decide whether or not the man was attempting a joke or seriously asking. Oh, well… the coffee was kicking in.

"Not unless that super serum made it to your head, Barton and Natasha are playing dumb, and I'm actually a Russian sleeper agent." Tony mocked as he started shaking out his legs. "I mean even the simplest of ideas are incredibly difficult."

He shrugged thinking it over. Hell, who really defined the impossible anyhow? They had a team of experts… If they approached everything in the correct way things might work out. "I mean, maybe we have a chance. Just _maybe_." He turned to Rogers, "Depends on the idea."

"We need to incept the former heir of Midgard International to accept his father's will concerning the control of the corporation." Barton replied frankly as he made his way to the couch, a couple of steps down from the counter and a walk from the kitchen.

"Last I checked, we don't work with the IMF." Tony answered but both men threw mildly confused looks at him which made him drop that and continue, "Look, forget about you three getting the super serum injected into your heads, inject it into Fury's! I mean, sure that'd be a relatively simple idea but add the politics and a whole business empire- I mean…"

Rogers shook his head as he said adamantly, "No, _we_ can do it. If anyone can pull off this inception, _we _can."

Tony had to admire the faith Rogers had in all of them. It was nice to know that the man believed they could pull off the impossible. And in this case Tony knew it was virtually impossible. Inception was only pulled off successfully at least one time before and that was a couple of years ago before extraction became a bit too popular even for a hidden and secret skill. No one knows who the mark was… but for Tony it didn't take long to figure that out. The "Fischer Empire", which would have become a superpower in the world, under the direction of the new CEO had dissolved within the course of several months after Robert Fischer took over. Tony didn't really have any proof of dreamshare until he ran the flight manifest against all databases. So many people in one spot on one flight… Tony pieced it together rather easily. A chemist. An architect. An extractor. A forger. It was a complete team and they were at their best. He'd heard rumors that four of them entered limbo… the complete team was full of seven. It wasn't some very assuring stats.

"Okay," Tony replied, hoping some hand gestures aimed at Rogers would help him make a point. "This has only been pulled off _once_. And that was _before_ extraction became popular." Popular was being used very loosely. Extraction was still kept under wraps because there were probably less than ten thousand extractors out there in the world, but the amount of people who knew about it was most likely in the millions and they're smart enough to keep it a secret because of the potential to use it as a weapon.

"You always need variables to solve a problem." Rogers said as he too stood. "What if we gave all of them to you? Full psych profiles, personal information, motivations… everything on the subject. What if we got it all?"

Tony shook his head though in the back of his head he was starting to think about it… to seriously strategize and built the dream levels, but his mouth moved on without his mind, "There are more variables than just info on the mark. Sure for extraction it may be all that we need, but this is planting an idea in someone's head through their dreams. Even if you were able to get all that information… you'd have to take into account his susceptibility to new ideas and his constant environment… would the idea even have time to grow?

"And even if you're able to confirm all of that, then problems move onto the dream itself. I'd have to construct a dream around his psych profile as well as model it to each of our strengths. With that, you're lucky that I'm a genius. And…" he paused trying to think of the other near impossible things, and apparently tonight his mind had a theme… bring the most terrifying idea to his mind. "The somnacin. You'd need a special batch and a chemist who can synthesize something that won't put us into a coma, because this thing is gonna be laced with sedative. And that means we might as well be stuck in the Matrix until the end of the mission."

"You mean… we can die?" Barton asked more enraged than scared as he placed his mug on the table.

"No, but unless we can keep this streak going you know with the breaking out of Limbo and stuff then we've got nothing to worry about." Tony answered as he took the steps down to the seating area and crashed on the sofa across from Barton, a large glass coffee table in between them.

"Limbo?" Steve asked as he followed him taking the seat on an unoccupied side of the table. "We die, we fall? No in-between?"

Tony arched his eyebrow, "Limbo _is_ the in-between."

"No kick up to the higher level?" Steve clarified.

"Sedative, remember? If we die, we'll be signing leases in Limbo. And forget it if the dreamer dies…" Tony continued, he hated how every worse possible event kept coming to the forefront of his mind, but he needed to talk Rogers out of this mission. "If that happens, everyone… mark and all of us…" He didn't need to finish.

He kept silence as he watched the war play on Steve's face. However, Clint just seemed more enraged than anything and it wasn't going to let up. He stood up and started to pace.

Something wasn't right.

Tony narrowed his eyes and studied his friends carefully. He recognized that look of rapid thought on Steve's face… he probably had that same look when he was trying to work out a very complicated problem. On the other hand, Barton had never looked so livid and Tony was pretty sure he'd pressed all of the guy's buttons and saw him in action in the dreams and out on the field. But this made him reconsider that.

1 + 1 = 2

Barton angry + Steve strategizing = They accepted the mission already

Duh…

Fury had asked them. It all made sense. Shield asked Tony to come in just in case Fury didn't reach Barton and Steve on time to ask them. But they both knew how incredibly difficult inception was… why in hell did they accept it?

It then snapped in his mind. Midgard International… a powerful corporation that did nothing but use their resources for aid… or good, if you wanted to be naïve about it. The tsunami in Japan… Midgard International was the first major power to respond and that was almost instantaneous. The floods in the Philippines. The bombings in Europe. The near nuclear meltdown in Asia. Hell, even the endangered animals got the attention of this corporation. They seemed to be everywhere… merely helping and even recently they had in a way- helped him. They had decided to ally themselves with his corporation to make a point and to help him make a point. That technology especially Stark technology wasn't always designed for destruction. He was a weapons corporation sure but he supplied weapons for protection. Also, not all his technology was meant to be used for offense. He had helped develop a microsized medical delivery system and was aiming to create some sort of nanotechnology to help with medicine. He had already created one of most lightweight bulletproof vests on the market a sustainable arc reactor that would make Stark tower the first building to completely run on sustainable energy.

Hmm… the phrase "no good deed goes unpunished" seemed heavily ironic at the moment to the point where Tony thought they should have seen it coming.

On the other hand. Perhaps the idea wasn't as hard as he believed. Maybe, Steve _was_ right.

Fathers and acceptance… that was the core of the issue and Tony could relate. Maybe he could figure out a way to help their mark find the acceptance he wanted via his subconscious with the help of the others… with Steve's strategic mind, Natasha's extraordinary ability to forge to perfection, and his ability to lure in the mind and keep it engaged in a maze. Heh, they were the best after all… they had spies and soldiers and a genius and he could probably find one more to help them.

"We can work around it." Steve said stealing the words out of Tony's mouth and aiming it at the furious Clint who looked ready to just about shoot Steve in the knee.

"Work around our own subconscious?" Clint growled. It was one of the few times it looked as if Clint was going to attack them. Usually this look would come from Natasha, and then you at least knew to expect some painful punch or kick but with Clint… it barely happened.

Tony felt like he should call his suit to him since he knew Clint was most likely armed and Steve had nothing to protect him but a couch that was too far away. Even if the guy had a super serum that made him run faster or hit harder, it wasn't like it made him invincible to a bullet coming from a master marksman. However, he was still in the dark and he didn't like being kept there. If need be, he'd tackle Steve to the ground… but until need be he was gonna wait and find out what the hell was going on.

"We do this… we _kill_ everyone!" Clint went on. "This is just perfect for him! A one hundred percent chance to get us all down into Limbo."

Him? Drag down to Limbo? Talk about bad memories and not letting go. Each of them, Tony himself, Steve, Clint, and Natasha had all to attend therapy sessions until they were given a clean bill of health and deemed stable… after the incident Shield wasn't going to risk losing them and Sharon Carter was the prime evaluator with plenty of others watching the video sessions to make sure the four remaining dreamshare experts were not going to fall over sanity's edge any time at all.

"Oh, please don't tell me you slept with Sharon to get a clean bill of psychological health." Tony joked.

Steve turned a fiery glare over at Steve while Clint in the meantime rolled his eyes in mere annoyance. The two were focused on each other a moment later, their unspoken secret hanging in between them.

They did know that they were talking about a dead man righ-

Oh, God. Yeah, they knew they were talking about a dead man. They knew. And they were still talking about him as if he were alive… Shit.

"Shades?" the question was asked more out of instinct than curiosity and he already knew the answer.

Barton livid + Steve strategizing = They had accepted the mission _and_ were both haunted by a shade

But not different shades. The same shade… The man who put them through a psychological hell.

James Barnes.

0o0o0

Barton never thought things could get worse or that he could get even more furious. It was bad enough that Steve had accepted inception in their current state of… mind? But now to find out that Bucky had the perfect opportunity to drag everyone down into Limbo and that everyone involved could fall into a fatal coma. That was enough… superpower or not… one of the best aids this world has ever known… there was no way they were gonna attempt a near impossible mission when there were other options that could be taken.

Inception was one option and involved no bloodshed and no physical activity at all which was why Fury preferred it. But there were physical choices as well… protection detail, shadows, infiltration… there was a whole spy novel worth of options and they didn't need to take this one.

"Calm down, drama queen." Tony said after a long silence between the three of them.

It was hard to believe that Tony, the one who probably had the most to lose if he accepted this mission, was the one to tell him to calm down.

"Give me a good reason." Barton replied acerbically, "Tell me why I shouldn't fly back to the Helicarrier, turn that PASIV in and save all of our sanities!"

"You know damn well why!" Tony shouted at him, "Midgard International! All those disasters around the world and they were there. Imagine how much worse the world will be without them. Millions would be dead, buried in rubble, drowned without rescue or worse without their help.

"Look, I might not know the details of this mission as well as you two but I don't need to be read in to figure out that Loki Odinson is planning to take over the corporation and take down his brother after his father dies. He's even trying now to undermine him by sending an extraction team to destroy his memories. It's much cleaner anyways. Am I right?"

Barton didn't answer, but Steve did and he merely nodded.

Stark was right. Though Midgard International was a household name… not many appreciated their help unless they were on the other end receiving that aid. Sure, people admired it but anything good can be turned into something dark and twisted and it only took one person. One dark and twisted person to turn the pure into the corrupt…

Or in his case… one wrong decision.

"You're not actually thinking about taking this on, are you?" Barton asked, focused on Tony. If he knew the man, and he did… he knew that Tony wasn't gonna risk his father's legacy, Pepper's emotions, and his position as Iron Man for the greater good. He was more likely to help Barton and Natasha run an infiltration op than risk his own sanity.

"Maybe." Tony said to Steve and Barton's shock. "Maybe, it's Cap's optimism or…" he paused and looked back over to the kitchen, "the coffee… but I'm thinking about it. You know, what we need… what we can encounter- what we do to work around it… solve the problem."

"You can't solve-" Barton started but was cut off when Tony just waved him off.

"I don't need your pessimism." Tony stated as he leaned forward to the coffee table. "Jarvis, look for any outside tech on Barton's quinjet. Project all the info… three copies."

In a heartbeat, holographic information, bits and pieces, all files and folders, and everything else were projected in the room and all spread out. Steve pulled out the file that he and Barton read. He was just about to ask Jarvis to project the files on Loki but suddenly-

"Jarvis, shut that all down."

Everything disappeared and all the men turned to the hallway that Tony not too long ago strayed out from. But she was already moving into the kitchen and approached the coffee maker before stopping and pointing at it.

"Who made this?" Pepper asked.

0o0o0

She found it amusing how Steve and Tony instantly pointed over at Clint as if they were in trouble and pointing him out would get them out of it. They were half right. They were in trouble… but pointing out that Clint had made the coffee was not gonna smooth over much.

She walked towards them and as she did, Clint started walking towards the kitchen. They passed each other and he whispered to her as she passed by, "It _just_ cooled down."

She smiled as she took his seat, his cup of coffee and settled into the couch, pulling up her legs to keep them warm from the draft that brushed at her calves. She allowed the silence between the three of them, her, Tony, and Steve, to grow a little more painful as she studied her boyfriend. She knew him long enough to read him and he knew it, which was why he was trying his hardest to put on his best poker face. She saw it though… intrigue and strategy… he was trying to figure out something that was difficult and he was enjoying the challenge.

Funny enough, it wasn't either Tony or Steve that broke the silence it was her.

"How long did you know I was standing there?" she said, face tilted ever so slightly not fully turning to Clint but enough to gesture that she was talking to him.

"When you started standing there. Shadows aren't gonna hide you. Plain sight will though…" he hesitated pausing what he was doing to gesture over at the other two, "Well, not with me, but with them." He was pouring himself a third cup hoping this time that he'd actually get to drink it. "And that was around the time Steve mentioned inception. So, you heard basically everything."

At the sound of that, Tony seemed to shift uncomfortably and Pepper already knew why. Tony never wanted to worry her. He thought it was enough that he gave her anxiety attacks with the Iron Man outings and most recently the Monaco attack… but at least then she could help, whether it was at the computers and guiding him or back seat driving Happy to Tony's aid at the racetrack to scream and scold him as well.

But dreaksharing was different… Tony merely lay unconscious and there was nothing Pepper could do to help him despite wanting to. Since the start, Tony had always stood against letting her join them on the premise that should anything happen to him no one knows him and his methods better than she, and no one else was more qualified to take his place. She was, as he had put it, "the only one" and that was the only reason she rejected Steve's offer to learn how to master the dream world. However, it didn't stop her from learning everything she could and try to help them on their missions whether it was reconnaissance or planning detail. Although, Tony was probably regretting sharing all that information because Pepper now knew exactly how deep the others were gonna go into to pull this off.

"Pepp-" Tony started but she cut him off with a shake of her head before she took a sip.

However, her next words weren't what she meant to say. "Good God, how the hell do you this?!" she asked as she fully turned around to Clint who answered her with a shrug. "Oh, I have missed this." she quickly caught herself, "I mean you." Again she corrected herself, "Well, not as much as… Ah, I'm glad you're back." she said starting to drink again as she swiftly turned around and away. Clint didn't see but Pepper was red because she was nervous… because she had almost said something.

"It's okay," Tony teased her with an amused smile knowing full well what she almost said, "You're just waking up."

She threw him a glare, but her eyes softened in a heartbeat. Too bad her tone didn't. "Don't start, Tony. Don't start this."

The man innocently shrugged while Steve started to sink into his seat knowing better than to get in between disagreements between Pepper and Tony seeing as they always made him choose a side.

"Start what?" Tony asked.

Pepper sighed, "This! Planning out escape routes and dream levels. I'm sorry but I'm siding with Clint on the turning the PASIV in and doing something else. There are other ways besides inception."

"I get why Barton's saying no… Shade and danger and Limbo and all but why're you against this?"

"Against this?! You said so yourself you wouldn't take any more risks."

"And you believed him?" Steve and Clint asked, the latter shouting from the kitchen.

"When he said he wouldn't risk his own sanity, yeah- I thought so!" Pepper replied, her eyes locked on Tony. There was another reason, of course, but that was obvious and didn't need to be blurted aloud.

"Okay, let's say we all turn down this assignment. We can let others infiltrate Loki's inner circle, but how long will that take?" he turned his next question over to Clint, "How long do you think it'll take, Barton? Let's say they send in you and Natasha. Assignment: Find out what Loki's intentions are with his brother and with his company."

"Natasha _and _me?" Clint clarified answered by a nod from Tony, "Let's see, a month."

"How long do you think his father will last?"

That question stumped everyone else in the room.

"A month?" Steve guessed.

"Two?" Clint said.

"A couple of weeks?" Pepper asked.

Tony pointed over at her saying, "Ding-ding-ding! We have a winner!" he said, "Odin's not gonna hang in there for long. He's deteriorating fast and pretty soon he'll be gone altogether."

Pepper looked back and saw that Clint was walking over not looking too happy that he had helped prove Tony's point.

"We need Loki to accept his father's will and give up any plans he has to overthrow his brother." Tony said, "Two week time span? What's our option?"

"What happened to it being near impossible?" Clint asked, "Us becoming geniuses and you becoming remotely aesthetically appealing?"

Tony rolled his eyes at that before leaning forward and answering with a shrug, "The coffee woke me up and I've reconsidered… Unless you've got a better idea?"

"Even if Steve and I don't dream," Clint said, "Your subconscious won't be able to keep us out. You've barely touched somnacin this past year, and Natasha hasn't been dreamsharing as much as me much less Steve."

"Doesn't matter," Tony said with a shake of his head, "as long as I don't construct to your strengths the shade won't know how to get around. I mean, there's a chance that a little bit of him can fall through, but… we can handle that, right team?"

But no one answered him. Clint merely settled on his drink and Pepper noticed that Steve was just staring off into the distance, as if he were day dreaming.

"Steve, you okay?" Pepper asked as she finished off her drink. He seemed to snap out of it the moment she called out to him, and his eyes turned to her.

He smiled, "I'm fine. Sorry, where do we stand? Everyone on board, yet?"

"Barton's all by his lonesome. Pepper and I are siding with you." Tony answered, but Pepper quickly cut in.

"Actually, I'm on the fence." she contradicted, "Wanna tell me who this shade is? And why you're so bothered?" She was directing the latter question at Clint.

"It's James." Steve answered, "Clint and I have been projecting him into the dreams. He's trying to shoot us out and into Limbo."

"Where we'll be in his world." Clint finished as he stared down into his coffee avoiding everyone's eyes.

"How do you know if you have a shade or not?" Pepper asked, something tickling the back of her mind.

The question seemed to confuse the three dreamshare experts, but Clint attempted the simple answer anyways. "You know… you feel it in the dream. You'll think it's just your subconscious at first merely projecting someone, usually someone you lost, but then that projection begins to manifest into something unpredictable. I mean-"

He was explaining what a shade was and she already knew it so she helped him out and rephrased her question, "Can you tell whether or not you have a shade through a regular sleep cycle or do you need to use the somnacin?"

"Why?" Tony asked. She knew it must sound like an odd question with such an easy unspoken answer, but she needed to know.

"Just tell me. Does the shade only exist when in dreamshare?"

"Well, as far as we can tell yes." Steve explained, "A regular sleep cycle is too unstable for a shade to project itself in."

Satisfied with that answer, Pepper placed her empty mug on the table before she stood and walked over to the bar, disappearing behind it for a moment. She slid open the wooden door of a cabinet to the safe that held Tony's PASIV. Typing in her passcode, the safe door opened and she pulled out the tech before walking back to the other three and placing the case on the table.

The men merely stared at her in confusion.

"I don't know if this crossed anyone's minds," she stated as she looked down at the PASIV, "but maybe someone else has the same shade?"

0o0o0

The thought did indeed cross Steve's mind, but he didn't really think much of it. Out of everyone, Tony knew Bucky the least despite meeting him before Natasha, the last member recruited onto the team. But Pepper's question brought that thought back to mind. Sure, perhaps Tony wasn't as close to Bucky but they had still been friends and they were all there that night.

"Okay, just because we were all on the same team and so far the stats are two out of four, doesn't necessarily mean that I have a shade." Tony said as he took the PASIV and opened it, "But hey why not use this to get my feet wet again, huh? Barton, Rogers, you in?"

Barton seemed to tilt his mug all the way back finishing the drink everyone had a chance to savor and enjoy but him. He merely finished it off for the energy boost that would come later. He took both mugs off the table and walked them over to the sink getting a thank you from Pepper, while Tony pressed the circle at the center of PASIV's cover. Like all Stark tech it opened with a show, a little whir of the gears was all that could be heard as the case opened up and set up into a small table with the tech set on top and the needles mounted on the side encased in plastic covers. A pair of headphones was wrapped around the center ring platform and Tony took those plugging them into a small jack at the base of the platform. Barton returned just as Tony and Steve were setting up for the dream.

"How long?" Pepper asked as she stood up and watched them. Steve already had the PASIV needle in his arm and was settling into his seat trying to get comfortable. Tony had the headphones on and the needle in his arm and Barton was the last of them.

"Fifteen minutes out here." Steve told her and watched as she set the timer for the countdown. " Blue button cues the music. Cue us for a thirty second time frame."

She nodded, "Gotcha. You boys, good?"

"Yep." Steve and Barton said.

"Thanks, sweetheart." Tony answered her trying to be cute, and earning himself a smile.

"Be safe." she whispered as she pressed the center and those were the last words they heard before gunshots swallowed up everything around them.

Steve could feel the searing desert heat and as he looked up his vision before him swam before finally settling and revealing that he was in a cave, a cave that was well wired and as he looked from side to side, stacked from ground to ceiling of Stark weaponry.

"What the-" he started before someone ran up to him and helped him to his feet.

"Go! Go with Stark!" he said, "I'll hold them off."

Stark. That was the only thing he heard.

"Where's Stark?" Steve asked as foreign voices echoed before them.

"Back there… with the suit. Go!" the man urged before pushing Steve off in the direction he had come before running ahead firing off like a mad man.

"Wait, no!" Steve shouted about to pursue him but his foot hit something and as he looked down he smiled before picking it up. It was then he remembered that this was a dream… but it felt so real.

Wait. Stark. Suit. Desert. Cave.

It hit Steve a moment later. This was a memory. No wonder details were so exact. Nothing seemed out of place, and Steve never felt the subtle tingle of his senses that told him he was in a dream. That was the danger of a strong memory, it had a pull that could lure everyone into believing it was real.

Mounting the round shield onto his left arm, Steve turned and ran down the hallway the projection told him to go down, hoping that Barton and Stark weren't pulled into the dream's strong hold.

0o0o0

Barton immediately felt the heat and memories of his time overseas came to mind. Bullets brought memories flashing before his eyes and he staggered to his feet clinging to the rocks as he stood, trying to pull himself up. He stumbled and fell but someone caught him and held him up.

He saw the silhouette of a round object and heard yelling and shouting. It took a while to realize that the yelling was his name.

"Clint! Where's Tony?" Steve had been asking, before slightly shaking him. "Clint!"

"Tony…" Barton murmured as he looked back to a door that was blown outta the wall and what looked like a workspace. If he remembered the story right then, Stark was there. This was the cave where he built the suit out of scrap metal. "There… should be there."

"Alright, c'mon." Steve urged as he steadied Barton on his feet and then headed into the room.

Barton shook off the ringing in his head that soon slowly died and then ran after Steve. If he remembered this story right from Tony's chats and Pepper's filling in the blanks to keep him informed, then-

"Steve, get down!" Barton yelled reaching the Captain's back and tackling him to the ground floor just as terrorists followed them in and the lights went dark.

Flashes of light from the firing guns were the only momentary sources of illumination but soon, the two heard the familiar whirring of an Iron Man suit and kept down as the sound of gunfire echoed and the metal body whirred to life with Tony at the wheel.

"Guys?!" Stark's voice was smothered and yet managed to have an echoing sound.

Both Barton and Steve on the elbows and still on the ground in case any more firefights broke out turned to look back and found themselves staring at a large, monstrous metal giant. It was as wide as four people and at least seven feet tall… or rather looked that way.

"What the hell-" Barton started but as he looked closer, he saw that it looked so primitive and so… well Stark. It was Stark tech, it looked like the Iron Man suit. The famous Mark I suit…

"Compared to the Mark VII this is an antique." Steve commented as Barton and he pushed themselves off the ground and finally stood up. The man straightened the shield on his arm.

"_This_ an antique? My father designed that shield in World War II!" Stark defended his suit, rather proud of the fact it was built out of practically scrap metal and an arc reactor he had forged for himself to power the entire suit.

Steve tilted the shield so that it glinted in the light, "It's a classic, and nothing beats the classics."

"Err, new coke beats classic coke. Classic coke _actually had_ coke in it and tar… I think. Or does it have that now." The two could hear the sarcasm and curious humor in the man's voice and before it had a chance to go on, Barton decided to put an end to it.

He had walked to the door while Steve was talking about his shield and had been listening carefully to the noises that were echoing off the cave walls.

"Enough." he finally said as he walked towards them. "There's an army of them coming for us with some bigger guns and that suit and shield can't protect us forev…" he trailed off, staring off at something in the distance that caught his attention.

Many expert extractors called it a sixth sense for feeling the effects of the dream. As many have explained, a dream isn't a dream until you wake up from it. For a while it feels real and some extractor still feel that. The more experienced the dreamer the more trouble the extractor would have delving into secrets. But it wasn't gonna be hard if the dreamer opened their mind to you…

That sixth sense was what went off in Barton's head and drew his attention to the odd contraption on the other side of the room. Both Steve and Stark had both felt it and turned to see it as well. Embedded deep into the cave wall was an old freight elevator that could probably take the size of the suit and still have plenty of room for both Steve and Barton and several other pieces of machinery. The elevator had a sliding door, similar to ones in the old buildings and probably a control panel hidden off to the side.

It all clicked in their heads and knowing each other so well, they each pulled off their parts.

Barton ran over to check the elevator. Steve went to the nearest terrorist and took their gun off their dead body before heading to stand by the door. Tony fully turned the suit around and headed for the elevator, taking laborious steps that took precious seconds away from their getaway.

Barton threw open the screen door and held it open somehow knowing that it would be operable once it closed. As he gauged the difference of from the floor of the elevator car to the roof, he figured that Stark's suit would barely scratch its roof.

He glanced back at the control panel and noticed that the numbers were in descending order the one lit was the "10". Gunshots drew his attention away from the panel and towards the door where Steve was firing before blocking the bullets with his shield wondering just how the bullets weren't hitting his legs.

Stark was halfway to the elevator, robotic arms and legs moving at their greatest speed, one that a four year old could beat in a race. But the slow pace lay in the fact that the machine was both so huge and primitive. Barton wished he could just prop the door open and give him a push but that would only succeed in probably making Stark lose his balance and with an army at the door, who would probably overrun Steve once his bullets were out, they didn't have the time for Stark to make a mistake.

Suddenly, the elevator doors started to press against his hand… it wanted to close.

Fuck!

Barton braced his hands against the cage door and yelled, "Tony! Damnit, book it!"

"I'm trying!" he thought he heard the reply as Barton saw Steve throw something that looked like a baseball.

Stark was a quarter-ways to the door when an explosion ripped through the hallway almost knocking Steve off balance and Tony as well. But both men were able to keep both feet on the ground and rushed to the elevator.

"A little warning would've been nice!" Stark yelled back at the soldier as Barton pushed the door all the way to edge to allow room for the suit, but the oddest thing happened. As soon as the suit reached the entry of the doorway, the next step in would have had the suit halfway in, but instead the suit disappeared and it was Stark who was taking the step and tripping because the suit disappeared around him.

_Thump!_

Steve rushed in right behind him leaping over him and landing on the other end of the elevator. Clint slammed the gate close before pressing whatever button to get the elevator to move. He noticed it was numbered four just as he dropped to ground like Steve as bullets tore through the air at them.

"Shit. Shit! Shit! Shit!" Barton cursed as he slammed his fist onto the metal floor. "Move!"

But it wasn't moving. Barton shifted his body towards the control panel, reached up and kept pressing it, waiting for it to move. It took several moments, but the elevator jumped slightly before descending. Barton leaned against the closest wall panting and out of breath, heart racing from adrenaline. Steve pulled himself to his feet, but still clung there ready to drop in case more gunfire rained down on them. His shield was discarded by his feet and the empty gun in the nearest corner. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears and started to slow his breathing. Stark was on the ground, on his back groaning about how bad he fell and how it really hurt. But other than that… they kept quiet, not knowing what to expect when they hit the floor.

However, the moment the ninth floor's button lit up, everyone could hear the sounds of waves and grains of sand blew through the cage door, and as they passed it both Barton and Steve spotted a beach and waves… and a lone umbrella on the beach with two people under its shade. A man with dark hair was lying on a towel, propping up his torso and leaning on his elbow. There was a woman next to him with long red hair and a sunhat off to the side. They were talking but Barton and Steve were too far to hear. They had no doubt in their mind as to the identities of the couple…

"That was… before the-" Stark's voice shook as he spoke, "Err- tech neck crossword puzzle… I took her to the beach. I was- going to tell her I was going to die. I couldn't… not even the dozens of times after that… I just couldn't…"

Barton and Steve turned to him, he had propped himself up on his elbows and had caught the last sight of the memory before the elevator hit the area between floors.

"Memories." Steve muttered as level eight pulled up but everyone ignored them, "Like in Limbo."

Stark groaned as he pushed himself off the ground, his body protesting to even the slightest movement. Falling on steel wasn't as dull as it sounded… Barton helped him up and the three stood by the door as they let the levels pass before them. When they hit the fourth floor, the elevator creaked before it came to a stop and only when it fully froze did Barton pull open the door, but no one took a step out. They all seemed to study the room, which was one of Stark's rooms, what looked to be something like his lab in the basement of his mansion in California only this was most definitely his lab area in New York.

Stark took a step forward first, cautioning the other two with a subtle hand motion to hang back and stay behind. He walked several more feet before the room woke up and JARVIS's familiar voice greeted him.

"Hello, sir. Natalie Rushman is here to see you." The AI said.

"Did he just say Natalie?" Stark could hear Barton ask from the elevator.

Maybe Steve replied to him silently but Stark answered him with words. He knew this memory very well…

"This was after we saved him from Limbo." Tony said as he called up familiar screens frozen on certain memories, all of them had half screens with Bucky Barnes on the screen with a therapist sitting across from him. "Barnes was talking to a shrink… Natasha was concerned."

No sooner had he said that did the door at the front of the lab beep with an affirming confirmation allowing Natasha Romanoff, back at the time of the memory known as Natalie Rushman, to enter the room. She didn't look happy, not one bit. She looked anxious, worried… she didn't look like herself.

"She's worried and I know why she's here." Tony stated, narrating aloud. "I've watched all the videos. I can hear it in his voice. He's not here at all. Barnes… our forger… we lost him down here and he's trying to fix himself. He can't. This was the first time I suspected something."

"I know you've been keeping a close eye on him, Stark." Natalie said as she approached his desk and he closed down all of the monitors. "What do you think?"

"I'm not a shrink." Tony answered her with a shrug, "How the hell would I know? I'm just making sure he doesn't sound loony."

"Tony!" Natalie shouted as she slammed her hand on the table, "Damnit, Tony, this is James we're talking about. We left him in there, we couldn't get our shit straight and James ended up paying the price. Stop being an idiot and don't you dare be condescending… what do you think about James's condition?"

Tony turned to the others and started walking back towards them.

"Tony!" Natalie yelled after him, "Tony, goddamnit, answer me!"

"He's fine, Natalie. He's getting better. Just let him deal with it, I don't see a problem." he lied as he walked into the elevator and closed the door behind him and just pressed the nearest button not knowing what number it was.

"You lied to her." Barton muttered, "You didn't even tell us."

"I didn't think it was important!" Tony answered, raising his voice.

"You should have said something!" Rogers added as he stepped towards him.

"In retrospect, yeah I should have. But who was gonna listen to me? His childhood friend? His soldier buddy?" he looked between each of them. "Definitely not his girlfriend." He pointed back behind him where the projection of Natasha was merely pulling up screens.

He went on, "Who was gonna believe that I didn't trust him? I was just starting to and that whole freak accident threw me off! You all believed he was gonna be fine… a couple of therapy sessions, some friendly support, and he'd cope. I could hear something was wrong in his answers, he was so calm about everything. It was just wrong."

The elevator suddenly stopped and the others could see they were at Tony's place in California, a party going on outside. Music was blasting, people were dancing and filling the entire room… lights were low cast and Pepper was moving through the crowd.

"Wow, talk about a big regret." Tony muttered as he held on to the cage door not wanting to open it.

"You were more a dick then than you ever were." Barton commented as he studied the panel.

"This was when…" Rogers trailed off and Tony finished for him, "Yep, when I was dying. I thought it was my last birthday, too."

Suddenly, something sounded like it broke and Tony and Rogers turned to Barton to see a piece of the control panel hanging off on hinges.

"Please don't tell me you just destroyed the only way to get in and out of this elevator?" Tony asked but Barton ignored his question.

"It's a countdown. The numbers are arranged highest to lowest. All memories and regrets… guilt provoking memories… The lower we go, you're back in a memory you regret." Barton said as he pressed something. "There was only ten floors, but not in your head. You always have a basement."

The elevator once more moved before either Tony or Rogers could stop him and soon they were back at one of the floors of Tony's tower. It looked like Tony's office.

"I wonder what it is you regret most?" Barton asked somberly as he opened the gate.

"Well, whatever it is, we've gone deep enough into your mind." Rogers stated, "If we're gonna find a shade or anything that'll make you unstable then it'll be here."

Both men were about to take a step out when Tony reached out and stopped them, grabbing both of their shoulders.

"Whoa easy guys." he said as suddenly something blue, what looked like a blue holowindow popped up before them. "I've got a bad feeling about this. Let me go first."

"No, you need to stay in this dream." Barton reminded him as he brushed off Tony's hand. "Steve'll be able to help you find the shade. Let me go."

He took a step forwards and just as he did something must've pricked the hairs on the back of Rogers's neck because right before Barton stepped through the holowindow, Rogers reached out to stop him.

"Clint, wait!" he cried as he reached out, about to grab his shoulder, but as his hand closed he grabbed nothing but air. Barton had disappeared completely, vanishing into thin air.

"Ah, crap." Tony sighed as he and Rogers exchanged glances. "Screw it, this is my memory. I dunno what exact memory it is, but I'm not gonna wait in an elevator for him to come back."

"Something tells me that this memory involves all of us." Rogers said as he took a step in front of Tony to stop him. "I think we're being _placed_ in the memory. We're going to be separated."

Tony arched his eyebrow curiously at that. It sounded weird, "Ever happen to you before?"

"No, but it makes sense." Rogers answered, turning to him. "You wouldn't project Clint or me here because we're already dreamsharing… we already have a form. If these are all memories…" he shrugged, "It makes sense we're being placed in it."

"So, Barton's out there somewhere… living out part of a memory?" Tony asked, worriedly because if Barton was right about deep regrets then… this was buried where no one was really meant to go.

He could tell Rogers was just taking educated guesses before saying, "Well, this is a memory dream and everything pulls us in. So, yeah, most likely he's out there somewhere."

He took a step forward but Tony reached out and stopped him, his hand on his shoulder.

"Look, I think Barton's right." he said, "This elevator's taken us down to my deepest regret and I have a pretty good idea what it is. You won't like it, and neither will Barton." He took a deep breath and released his grip, "You need to be careful. Don't get lost."

Steve merely nodded before taking a deep breath and walking into the dream. Tony watched him disappear from sight and let go the breath he'd held. He had a pretty good idea what memory this was… and it was a memory that was scarring to everyone. This was a mistake. This was a grave mistake. He was surely gonna wake up some demons and some guilt that the other two harbored and buried deep down.

Tony just took a couple deep breaths and jumped on the balls of his foot as if ready for a fight before shaking off that very bad feeling that tingled all over his skin. And he jumped right into the dream.

And landed on his feet a couple feet from the elevator.

Hmm, that was… weird.

"Uh, Jarvis… Date and time, please?" he asked as he straightened up and approached his desk. He realized where he was… They were in New York, his tower… and judging by lack of sunlight outside it was nighttime.

"September 5th 11:46, sir." Jarvis answered as Tony froze as he flipped through his file. Something was opened on his computer… records that showed someone had used their codes to look for something he had flagged… Natasha's address. Her temporary safe house… no one but him was to know where she was.

"Damnit," he cursed as he saw the name on the access code list. It wasn't as if he'd been trying to hide it by using someone else's key code which he could easily swipe. He used his name… showing that Tony wasn't going to be able to stop him.

Now, if he remembered this correctly. Barton was tied up somewhere in the training room.

"Jarvis, video feed to the training room. Find Barton." Tony instructed as he approached the far side of his office where his latest suit the Mark VI … at this time… was stored. He could fiddle around with the little intricate password he'd placed in, pulling out a book, tipping off the scale at one end, and turning a knob counterclockwise… or he could just use voice command.

"Deploy the Mark VI." he said as Jarvis announced, "I've found Agent Barton, sir. He doesn't look too good."

Tony turned to the screen and stared. "What the-" he started as he stared. Barton was bound and gagged hanging from one of the pull-up bars in the room and he was bloody and unconscious. This wasn't the memory… This wasn't what happened.

He instructed as he headed towards the hallway, "JARVIS, prep the suit… and in what phase is the rapid heal tech?"

He was out of the way of the camera, hiding directly under it.

"Stark should be on his way." he said as he threw the knife across the room and embedded into the wall. "Time to play hide and seek with Steve."

Barton tensed and struggled against the ropes, but they started to cut deep into his raw wrists. He winced and tensed, his body weighing down for a bit and the pain lanced through him in a white flash.

"Aren't you tired of this?" the man asked as he stopped at the door glancing back at him. "Every time you delve into the dream, you know what I'll do to you. You know _why_ I do it to you. You know I'll get worse."

He sighed as if bored with something. "You know you're no fun anymore. You used to scream." he turned the knob and opened the door, letting some fresh air in from the hallway to circulate around the stagnant room that reeked of sweat and blood. "I think it's time I moved on to someth- some_one_ else. Steve, maybe? Or Tony?" He took his time with the next threat and smiled as he said her name, "Nat?"

_Touch them and I swear I'll skin you alive!_ Barton wanted yell at the top of his lungs, but he couldn't even use them for anything else besides breathing. They felt bruised and were definitely exhausted on the verge of collapse. His blood was slowly oozing out of the open cuts that once used to hurt.

"Eh, she's not here yet. Let's start with Steve." The shade disappeared with a shrug and shut the door behind him, leaving Barton to hang there, helpless and unable to do much even if he were miraculously reached by Tony.

He closed his eyes, ready to wake up in the real world. Ready to reject this mission in order to save everyone else and keep his shade within his own subconscious. He was ready…

His breathing slowed down.

0o0o0

Tony wasn't surprised to reach the door and find it to be locked. Whoever did their work on Barton was an idiot for even bothering to lock the door, this was after all his tower.

"JARVIS, override." he commanded and waited that second for the door to click open before running into the room and towards the hanging body on the pole. "Shit…"

Luckily the pull-up bar was adjustable. He lowered it to the point where Barton's feet reached the ground. He spotted the knife in the wall but freeing him wasn't going to do any good if Barton was gonna fall on his face and screw up his body even more. He approached his friend careful not to slip in his blood which was dripping down from shallow open wounds all over his torso and legs.

"Oh, Clint, who did this to you?" he muttered as he removed the gag and framed one side of the soldier's face to keep his face forward. "Okay, wake up!"

One hand shook him by the shoulder to wake him up gently. Nothing happened. He waited several moments for any sign of him stirring, but no…

"C'mon, you sardonic sonofabitch, wake up! I need you here not out there!" he yelled shaking him harder, "Hey! Barton! _Wake! Up!_"

Barton groaned and leaned forward slightly but slowly he opened his eyes.

"Star…k…" he murmured as his eyes flew open and anxiety rang in his voice. "No, Stark… he's here. In the dream! He's here! He's going after Steve!"

"Barton…" Tony said, his voice firm, "Barnes is a projection. _Your_ projection, and this is _my _memory. Now come on, I gotta get you to the infirmary. I need you as a lab rat for some nanotech."

Tony freed the knife from the wall and reached up and cut the ropes at Barton's wrists. He released the knife and caught his friend… and nearly fell from the weight of him.

"Holy-" he started almost falling down, but he lifted the man up. "You _need_ to lay off those protein shakes!"

He was able to lift him up and drag him but this was gonna take much longer if Barton wasn't going to help himself just a bit.

"C'mon, I need you to work those heavy muscles of yours. Walk!"

"Don't think- you saw…but- he slashed… my legs." Barton remarked brokenly.

"Shut up, smartass." Tony quipped in an effort to get a smile from his friend as he started to half drag Barton down the hallway grateful the infirmary was on the same floor. Barton did manage a small grin.


End file.
